


Guardians of Mianite - October One-shot Challenge

by LadyKamerackHarmony



Series: Guardians of Mianite [6]
Category: Mianite - Fandom, Minecraft - Fandom
Genre: all warnings posted in the notes in the beginning of each chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:08:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 54,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4909987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKamerackHarmony/pseuds/LadyKamerackHarmony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He blinks because wow, has it always been this hard to see? He thinks he could see clearly a few seconds ago, really. “Lara, I… I don’t… feel so good.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Phobias

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:  
> Phobias (as followed: blood, abandonment, light, ocean, being alone, and being replaced)  
> Probably some swearing  
> Non-graphic content  
> Spoilers for the next (the 3rd) in the main GoM series stories.

**Hemophobia (Fear of Blood)**

 

“Ow.”

 

Jace looks over at Lara as she starts to turn, reaching for the bandages that they have stolen from a village. There’s a small cut on her hand where he’s run Dianite’s blade across her palm. Jace had let Lara do the same to his, only with Mianite’s sword, but he hadn’t really looked at her while she did it. Not that it would have mattered – Lara heals everything before it can start to look bad.

 

But, for whatever reason, Jace turns toward her this time and realizes that she can’t heal herself since the sword is, in part, made to kill her.

 

The second he looks and sees the red spilling over the sides of her hand, his stomach lurches and his limbs lock up. He can feel his tail go rigid behind him and his wings tighten until they’re both stock still. It feels strangely hard to breath suddenly, and before he knows it, he’s stumbling.

 

“L-Lara,” he stutters.

 

She turns to face him, curiosity written across her features. “Jace, what’s—?” She stops talking and approaches him. “ _Jace._ ”

 

He blinks because wow, has it always been this hard to see? He thinks he could see clearly a few seconds ago, really. “Lara, I… I don’t… _feel so good._ ”

 

“Sit down,” she coaxes, reaching toward him in an effort to help lower him to the ground safely. “Sit. Jace, sit d—what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did the sword do this? I thought that I—”

 

Jace doesn’t really hear her finish because he looks stupidly down at her hand and sees red again. There’s red on her robes. There’s red on his arm. There’s red on his robes. There’s so much red, and he really, really isn’t okay anymore. He pulls his attention up to her face and blinks, trying to stabilize his vision, but it just gets hazier and hazier until, suddenly, everything is black and quiet and nothing – _nothing_ – is red.

 

When he wakes up, Declan calls him “hemophobic.” He asks the priest what the word means and Declan explains that it’s a fear of blood. He says Lara had brought Jace over immediately, concerned that Mianite’s sword had caused a severe reaction or her attempts at healing him after had responded negatively. Declan just tells him to stay away from blood, and that it’s okay, sometimes people are afraid of things like that. It’s normal.

 

**Autophobia (Fear of Abandonment)**

When she was little, Ianite left – and Syrreth got locked away -- and an entire village of people she knew became ill with a plague and died overnight. It had been her first experiences with death and with abandonment, and… maybe Lara’s never really gotten over that.

 

Before meeting Jay (again), Lara hadn’t really thought about it. Jace and the Mianitees were always running around. Why would she ever think about being alone, when she had people surrounding her? They kept her busy enough that her mind never wandered back to Ianite’s loss or Syrreth’s disappearance. When she’d heard Tom boasting about killing the Enderdragon, she’d been furious and heartbroken, but not abandoned. When Jordan had started asking about Ianite, she had been caught off-guard, but not abandoned.

 

When she meets Jay, something in her clicks. She doesn’t think about it at first. When she and Jace get him out of the Nether and she places her energy inside of him, that’s when the thoughts start coming to her. As long as Jay has her energy, she’ll sense him. She won’t let him die because she doesn’t want to feel that loss again.

 

When Jay drops himself into the Void is when she _really_ can’t deny it. She feels alone. She feels left behind. She feels distraught and destroyed, and she wants back his company. She spends a few moments clawing at the ground where he’d disappeared, but she’s not Polaris. She can’t open portals like Jay can, and she can’t tear through the earth like Polaris can. She stops trying to get to Jay before her fingers begin to bleed.

 

When she dies, she doesn’t think of it. She feels bad that she’s leaving the others behind, but she doesn’t think about loneliness. When she returns and finds Jay again, though, she does – and when Dianite dishes out his punishment, she can’t hide it. The thoughts return of Ianite and Syrreth when she realizes that Dianite has made her look the same way she did then, and she cries for the first time in so long over the fear of loneliness.

 

She doesn’t know if Jay really considers how important he is to her, or how precious that silly promise is to her. Hearing that he won’t leave her alone is the most important thing she’s ever heard, and she clings to that. She clings to the way his finger wraps around hers, in such a childish way.

 

But at least she’s not afraid anymore.

 

**Photophobia (Fear of Light)**

If Jay’s asked, he’ll deny it vehemently. _No_ , he’s _not_ afraid of light. Has everyone met Lara already? She’s literally an embodiment of light and all that is no—all that is _holy_ and _wonderful_ and—

 

Yeah, okay, _maybe_ he’s a little bit afraid of it…

 

But, to be completely fair, you’d be afraid of it, too, if it hurt you every time you touched it, or went into it! So, really, Jay’s not _afraid_ of it – because _fear’s stupid_ – as much as he is just _disagreeable_ to it. It’s bad for his health, that’s all. If he wants to continue living, _which he does_ , then he needs to just… avoid it. Simple as that. He’s not afraid; he’s just self-preserving.

 

When he was growing up, he wasn’t really sure what to make of light. Sure, the sunlight made him feel sleepy when he was in the Overworld, and Cronus and Void warned him away from Mianite at all costs – but he never really knew what to think.

 

When he started training Lara in controlling her ability to manipulate light, though, he found out. It had felt like _dying_ when she had struck out at him. To be honest, though, he’d played at her fear of Void and instigated, but he hadn’t been expecting her to be _that_ strong right away. He’d been grateful for her kindness after, though, and then a bit miserable once he saw the outcome of his training, thinking he’d worked her too hard.

 

Since then, Jay’s been a little… anxious. He won’t mention it to Lara because some part of him is still fascinated by the light that spreads through her wings when she’s nervous or excited, or just at peace. Not to mention, he doesn’t want to give Tom or Jace the ammunition.

 

So…

 

Maybe he’s a little afraid of light, but don’t you dare tell anyone!

 

**Thalassophobia (Fear of the Ocean)**

Polaris can remember experiencing water for the first time. Well, really, it had been the ocean outside of Jordan’s house, and he hadn’t really meant for her to experience it. She had sort of been balanced precariously on his shoulder as he leaned to grab some of his things that had fallen into the ocean. His change of balance had knocked her off of her footing, and suddenly she had toppled into the ocean.

 

She had been left with burns all up her spine, wings, and between her toes. Her belly felt like it was on fire. She’d yowled and scrambled out of the water, growling and hissing. When Jordan had tried to scoop her up and cradle her against his chest, she’d run off. When she returned to his house an hour later, Jordan had told her that she looked like she was still in pain – and she had been.

 

Looking back at that, Polaris is reluctant to be near the ocean. She never flies low enough when she’s in her dragon-form to let her wings touch the water. She lifts her tail as she flies because she’s let it slip low enough once to brush over the water, and it had left her entire spine aching for a week. The Mianitees seem to respect her aversion well enough not to push her boundaries of comfort, and QuickSilver is always there to wrap her up in his arms when she panics about how close the tree is to the ocean.

 

**Monophobia (Fear of Being Alone)**

Jinx won’t say it, but she doesn’t like to be alone – especially after being so for eons. Dianite doesn’t really seem to get that. He leaves her to herself far too often, and when he returns, she practically lunges at him to wrap him up in her arms. The loneliness lets her think, and that’s not a good thing for her. Her illusionary skills tend to backfire for the first few weeks that she’s out of her prison, and Dianite doesn’t seem to understand that her abilities can be wonderful and horrible at the same time. Used against others, they’re a powerful force; used against herself, they’re terrifying enough to insight nightmares.

 

When Dianite leaves one day, Jinx paces the temple. She’s two and a half months pregnant, and she’s alone. Jace is busy with one of Dianite’s followers – Tom, or something – and Furia is away from the temple (she hasn’t met Furia yet, but Jace talks negatively of him and Dianite has caused an explosion at the mention of his name), and Amber (whom Jinx has also not met, and also heard things from Jace about) is apparently with Furia, wherever Furia is. She’s distressed as she watches illusion after illusion form in front of her, until the temple begins to darken and disappear around her.

 

“No,” she mumbles, “no, no, no… not there… I—”

 

“Who are you talking to, girly?”

 

Jinx whirls around, hands instinctively going to her stomach in an effort to protect her child. Standing in front of her is Abyss. The Higher God of Death is looking at her, bemused, as he has for the last couple of months. She knows, immediately, that he’s still trying to figure out who she really is past the knowledge that she’s the Goddess of Chaos. He seems frustrated, but he gets over it soon enough, and his gaze turns into one of concern.

 

Around them both, the darkness is retreating and the temple is returning, lights and all. Jinx is thankful for his company and the distraction.

 

“Abyss,” she breathes, “you know, I never believed I’d be thankful to hear you call me ‘girly’ ever again – but gods, please stay here until Dianite returns. I could use the company.”


	2. Immortal Magic I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A prince has no place meddling with magicks,” his father would always snap. “You’ll taint what potential you have to be a ruler if you waste your effort on them.”
> 
> Jay had never agreed – and so he always continued to seek Lara out while she was busy with her spell craft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Blood (non-graphic)  
> Character death (non-graphic)  
> Immortality

He’s been in love with her for centuries now, only she never remembers. She always forgets about him, and she’s always different. Of course, that might be because she keeps _dying_ on him and the next incarnation of her is someone brand new who doesn’t recognize him. As he’s cursed to keep living and waiting, she’s been cursed never to have any memories of him consciously pour over into her next life. She’s also cursed to keep dying – over and over and over again – despite that not being part of the spell.

 

He just wants it to stop now, after six centuries of watching her live and die.

 

* * *

 

 

When he’d first met her, she was a young woman. She had lived a prosperous life. Her family was one of recognition and Jay was of nobility. Lara had belonged to a line of sorcerers and sorceresses that had worked for Jay’s family in exchange for status and boarding. In truth, Jay had secretly been trying to gain her hand in marriage, but neither of their fathers would accept that. According to his own father, Jay was slated to wed a noble from a neighboring kingdom; Lara’s father was insistent that Lara could marry anyone, just not him. Mason was never fond of Jay’s eager observation of the mystical arts that the sorceress practiced, and Vincent felt it was a waste of his son’s time to lollygag around with the magic-users in the castle.

 

“A prince has no place meddling with magicks,” his father would always snap. “You’ll taint what potential you have to be a ruler if you waste your effort on them.”

 

Jay had never agreed – and so he always continued to seek Lara out while she was busy with her spell craft.

 

Lara had been working on brewing a potion that she’d diligently been studying. According to what little Jay had paid attention to (in hindsight, he curses himself for not listening better to her explanation), the potion was said to grant all forms of healing to whomever ingested it. Jay hadn’t thought anything of it. If this potion could heal people, then his country would never suffer illness. It was a wonderful thing.

 

For a fortnight, she worked on it and Jay kept close, eager to see for himself the end product. He slept in a chamber close to the sorcery-quarters; he had meals and objects of his studies brought to him so he wouldn’t have to leave her side. Everything was going so smoothly. Jay couldn’t wait to see the eyes of his people light up and hear the praise for his sorceress when the news spread of her work.

 

And news did spread, though not for the better.

 

On the night Lara was finishing the potion, the castle was attacked. Skeletons had risen from their earthly resting places and swarmed the castle gates. A dragon made of fire itself overpowered the guards and destroyed the walls, allowing the foot-soldiers to rush inside. The castle was filled with screams as a slaughter took place above the sorcery-quarters, and the castle seemed to tremble with every quaking step the dragon above took.

 

Jay remembers in vivid detail getting thrown up against a wall before he could warn Lara when a stranger had entered the quarters. He had no followers behind him, but he was clearly of magical descent. Until then, Jay had never experienced a darker side of magicks. The force against his ribs, though, was in no way kind as it threatened to crush his insides with every breath he attempted.

 

He was forced to watch as Lara was approached by the stranger. He was older than her, and he was stronger in every way possible, leaving her visibly helpless. All the stranger had to do was move a finger and the sorceress’ body would react, like a puppeteer playing the strings of its creation. Although Lara made attempts to resist, she was taken over to the cauldron she was using for her spell, wrists forcibly raised despite her struggles. A dagger was drawn across her wrists and they were promptly suspended over the cauldron as though she was willingly offering her life to the spell. If Jay hadn’t known her, or hadn’t seen her trying desperately to break the stranger’s odd control over her limbs, he might’ve thought she was.

 

But Jay knew better. Jay knew Lara would never give up any blood to a spell. Only dark magicks ever required a sacrifice like that. As Jay watched the blood slip over her arms and into the potion, his stomach knotted. The stranger was making no attempts to allow her free from the bloodletting, and Jay realized in horror that his plan was to kill her. Why else would he control her limbs, if not to make certain she wouldn’t slip from her feet when her consciousness fled?

 

Jay struggled harder against his invisible bonds, listening as the man began to speak:

 

“When I heard that someone was foolishly attempting a spell such as this, I thought it nothing more than rumor. Of course, I am nothing if not curious. This kingdom was filled with talk of your spell, little sorceress. A shame you won’t live to know what it will now do. Ah, but perhaps I can be kind. Would you like to know? Certainly you would.

 

“Blood is powerful, child, especially when it comes to magicks. To let blood is to be willing to risk everything for something, and the gods will reward such sacrifice. They are hungry creatures, but they respect power. And a spell like yours, if given with this offering, is strong enough to grant immortality. Unfortunately, the brewer will never live to see the spoils of their work. It is only their blood that is an acceptable gift to the gods. I must thank you for you participation. You have been incredibly useful to me.”

 

Immortality? This stranger was seeking immortality, and such could only be gained with the loss of Lara’s life? Jay’s heart dropped into his feet as he came to notice that Lara was already visibly pale and looking weakened. He didn’t want her to die. He didn’t want to feel as helpless as he was, left only to watch as she died in front of him and this stranger reaped the benefits of her work.

 

He doubled his efforts against the stranger’s spell and managed to free himself, dropping to his knees as the force holding him went lax. He charged forward. As soon as he made contact with the man, Lara was freed from the grip holding her, leaving her to collapse to the stone flooring without a sound. The stranger, seeing what Jay had caused, began to struggle with him for hand-holds. Jay tripped over his feet and he fell backward into the cauldron.

 

Out of instinct, Jay went to take in a breath of surprise. The liquid was hot and burnt him even as it raced down his throat, into his lungs and stomach. He scrambled out of the cauldron hurriedly, choking on what was in his body. The force of his coughing fit dropped him to his knees next to Lara, his hands landing in sticky blood that had slowed considerably from its escape of her wrists.

 

“Little pest,” the stranger had hissed, before chuckling at him. “But, I must stay, you were quite loyal to stay with her and attempt to defend her. Usually, though, it’s the pet that defends her master, not the other way around. Never fear, the spell requires constant rejuvenating. In a few decades, she’ll return to appease it.”

 

Jay couldn’t move. His eyes were locked on Lara. She was so pale, and when he went to try to shake her awake, her body was cooler. It wasn’t cold, but warmth was already beginning to leave her. He had no time to find her a healing potion or seek other help, if help could even be found any longer in the castle.

 

“Unfortunate that I’ll have to deal with you for eternity,” the stranger added. “You’ll be meddlesome.”

 

Jay shook himself from his frozen state and turned his gaze in the stranger’s direction, noticing that the man was scooping a vial of the potion out of the cauldron. Knowing he could no longer save the woman he loved, he launched himself toward the stranger, just too late. The stranger swallowed what was in the vial, assuring his continued life, but it no longer mattered to him. Jay knocked the stranger from his feet and back into the cauldron’s side, causing the potion to be emptied onto the floor.

 

He grunted at he fell to the floor, thrown aside by the stranger. He looked up, aware that his limbs were once again bound by invisible chains meant to keep him still. The stranger, meanwhile, was drenched in the immortality potion. Fiery red hair stuck up in places and clung to his face in others. The long coat he was wearing was now a darker shade of maroon and a dingy yellow-brown as opposed to red and gold as it had been when he entered the chamber. Jay could only imagine he looked a similar state of disarray.

 

“Pest,” the stranger barked. “You’re nothing but a pest! Let’s see how you’d like to actually be one!”

 

Jay sent him a confused glance before he loosed a howl of pain. His limbs shrunk and snapped, bones breaking and grinding against one another as they shifted unnaturally. His spine and skull lit up in pain as his ears moved and his tailbone extended into a tail. Everything hurt. Every single nerve-ending was on fire, and his vision swam in black for a moment.

 

When his vision cleared, the ground was closer and the stranger was collecting Lara’s notes about her potion. Jay knew that every ingredient was written on her notes. Lara always kept expertly documented care of her potions so that they could be replicated without worry. Part of Jay wished she had never written down how to accomplish this potion, though.

 

The stranger turned to him and huffed. “A cat? I was aiming to make you a little _rat_ , but I suppose a cat is fitting, too,” he laughed, “you’ll only get nine lives, little kitty. Use them wisely.”

 

The bounds around Jay released when the stranger vanished. Jay rolled onto his feet, clumsily stumbling over to Lara. He wasn’t very coordinated on four legs, but he managed to get to her without falling over his paws. He sat next to the sorceress’ body, ears flicking back, tail curling around himself.

 

In a matter of an hour, his kingdom was gone. His father and mother were dead. Lara’s father, and all of the others who worked in the castle were dead. Lara, the woman he loved, was dead. It was going to be torture to go on, but he had no choice. Jay would live on to avenge her, and to save one version of her. Someday, he would be able to see her alive again.


	3. Athazagoraphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Void introduces her to the little… thing, she glares down at it. Because, deep in her core, fear starts to well. Void has never created another like her – or anything that, like this thing, is more powerful than her. Fear blossoms in tiny flowers that grow and spread from her the knot in her stomach, to an ache in her chest and a threatening burn just behind her eyes that she knows is unacceptable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Potentially child abuse, but not really?  
> Fear of being replaced/forgotten

When Void introduces her to the little… _thing_ , she glares down at it. Because, deep in her core, fear starts to well. Void has _never_ created another like her – or anything that, like this _thing_ , is more powerful than her. Fear blossoms in tiny flowers that grow and spread from her the knot in her stomach, to an ache in her chest and a threatening burn just behind her eyes that she knows is unacceptable.

 

He will replace her.

 

This is the first time Void has ever introduced anything to her, and she is terrified that it means that she, like the other things Void has created, is going to be replaced. Shoved aside. Forgotten. _Unmade_ and _destroyed_ because she will no longer be his best or his favorite creation. This _thing_ will rip away her spot and destroy her, and she despises it for that.

 

So she glares at it and stays mute, because certainly, Void will not want to hear her displeasure voiced.

 

When Void leaves the _thing_ with her, she teleports it away – to some far-reach in the realm that will allow her to be free of it. It will be fine; it’s a void-born. The Void can’t possibly harm it, and as for its maker? He will never have to know.

 

But, curse the damn _thing_ , it somehow gets teleported back to her, and blinks up at her with its curious eyes, silently wondering what had just happened to it. She scowls at it and tries again, only for it to reappear moments later. As she continues to try, she begins to feel more and more desperate to be rid of it – but nothing she does is worth more than a brief moment of respite from it and its gaze. She nearly screams in frustration and anger and loss because it will replace her if it stays.

 

As a final act of desperation, she grabs its arm and takes it to the Overworld, disappearing as soon as it has wandered off to inspect something. She knows that she is condemning it to death. When Mianite finds it – and he will – it will be killed. The God of the Aether has no tolerance for anything relating to the Void, and certainly none for anything pertaining to the Void’s current ruler. The _thing_ will be done for upon sight, and if it happens to run into Mianite’s little Guardian, it will be killed much sooner than she expects.

 

Unfortunately, the _thing_ is teleported back to her _again_ , and only now does she notice that it is an enderman teleporting it from place to place. She does not know why the enderman thinks it will be safe with her. Clearly, she has no desire for it. Perhaps, though, the kind goddess Ianite believes Void can do some good with his little _thing_.

 

She does not share Ianite’s belief.

 

Void returns shortly after and pats the _thing_ on the head. She stifles a growl, listening as praise spills over Void’s lips for something that it has done that she has apparently missed witnessing. When Void turns his attention to her, she expects to hear good things as well, and perks up eagerly for the praise she anticipates. Instead, Void scolds her. He waves a hand dismissively as he dictates the newest plan he has for her and sends her off to do some task that lacks the urgency his previous ones have held.

 

Ever obedient, despite the negative response, she teleports away to oblige him.

 

As time passes, the tasks Void sends her on become increasingly more menial and his praise falls flat. When he does offer her compliment, it borders on basic and uninterested acknowledgement. He stops thanking her for the tasks she completes, and the time he spends with her becomes less and less as the boring, simple jobs become more and more frequent. It is as if he does not want her in his realm for longer than she need be.

 

And that horrifies her.


	4. Witch's Brew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polaris doesn’t know what to make of witches. That said, Polaris has never actually met a witch. She can only go off of what the others tell her about them, or what she’s seen of them from afar. They aren’t the most attractive-looking creatures, but they’re definitely intriguing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fox tamer 113 on FF.net said: I've been reading this for quite a while, and I noticed it's been a long time since we had a Polaris chapter. So, can you write a Polaris chapter? Please?
> 
> Chapter Warnings:  
> Minecraft witch  
> Attempted (and failed) poisoning

Polaris doesn’t know _what_ to make of witches. That said, Polaris has never actually _met_ a witch. She can only go off of what the others tell her about them, or what she’s seen of them from afar. They aren’t the most attractive-looking creatures, but they’re definitely intriguing.

 

Jordan doesn’t like them very much and panics when one gets close to his house, despite him being able to easily take them out via ranged weapons like a bow. The pirates don’t like them because the witches can poison them, and apparently, the pirates don’t carry milk to cure the poison. Lara and Jace are immune to the poison, but still find witches to be an annoyance, which Jace swiftly gets rid of whenever he’s in the vicinity of one. Polaris has decided that the only good time for witches is during a Purge since they can distract or poison the others while Jordan gets away safely.

 

When Jordan is strip-mining with Tucker and Tom one day and Polaris is left at the house alone, she wanders outside when a witch walks into the yard. The witch doesn’t seem to notice her at first. She’s a lot smaller than it is. Once, Sonja had joked that Polaris could look like a black cat in comparison to a witch because of her dark scales and “large-cat” current body size. Polaris watches the witch for a long moment, observing it, until it moves again. When it moves, its robes sway, and Polaris’ attention immediately goes to the sudden, familiar motion. It’s like Jordan’s pant leg, or like Lara’s robes. Daringly, she reaches forward and swipes at the witch’s clothes. The witch turns its attention to her. Polaris glances up at it as well, half-expecting to get a response. When it doesn’t respond, she claws again.

 

This time, the witch doesn’t seem to appreciate her game. Before Polaris can even untangle her talons from the cloth, a potion is dumped over top of her. She hisses and reels back, ripping the witch’s robes as she rears away from the contents dumped over her body. Some of the potion falls into her mouth when she opens it to loose a protesting squawk. The thick brew that coats her tongue, rushing down her throat, is acrid and acidic.

 

“Pest,” the witch growls. “I just fixed these!”

 

Polaris whines and backs away from the witch. Her legs feel tingly, but she doesn’t feel like she’s in pain. Her belly aches, though, and her wings feel harder to lift where the potion has soaked them. She doesn’t know what kind of potion the witch has thrown onto her, but it’s not one that feels nice. Was it poison, though? Is she going to die?

 

She continues to back away until she hears a loud, furious snarl behind her. Warily, she turns her gaze to the creature and notices that it’s an enderman. The tall, lanky figure is standing over her, its gleaming eyes in the direction of the witch and its mouth open into a large, terrifying growl that seems to come from deep within its chest. When the witch tosses a potion toward it, the enderman lifts Polaris and teleports away before the potion can even reach them.

 

The endermen reappears with Polaris elsewhere, and it takes Polaris a moment to recognize the End. She has only been to her home realm a few times, and never without Jordan present at her side. Ianite is still absent from the End, so there is no one there with Polaris aside from the perhaps millions of endermen, who have now flocked over to see her. All of them look identical to the one holding her, and they all speak in the same language. Different ones have different tones of hushed conversation.

 

_This is Sister._

_Sister has returned._

_She does not belong with us. She belongs with her mortal._

_Did we not help Mianite’s Guardian to ensure her safety and her arrival?_

_We did, but he will long for her company if we keep her away from him for too long. Mortals are tiring creatures. They are strange creatures._

_Does she understand us still?_

_Does she?_

Polaris squirms in the arms holding her until she’s set down on the endstone below her. She walks in circles, staring up at the haunting around her with wide, curious eyes. Syrreth had mentioned brothers to her. Are these Syrreth’s brothers? Is that why she can understand their language so well? She lets out a tiny roar, hoping to let them know that, yes, she does understand.

 

_Hello, Sister._

_Can you speak to us again?_

Polaris shakes her head and lets out a few growls, trying idly to balance on her back legs as they are. She has tried the same position multiple times in Jordan’s presence, but she can never balance long on her hind legs. It rewards her a laugh from Jordan, though. The endermen seem equally amused because they let out noises that Polaris thinks sound like a laugh – or could, if they could actually make a laughing sound. The endermen seem pleased that she’s attempting to mimic them.

 

_Did the witch harm you, Sister?_

Polaris shakes her head again.

 

One of the endermen step forward with a red flower in its hands and offers it to her. Polaris blinks at the flower for a moment. She has seen golems offer flowers, but never endermen. Deciding to be respectful and polite, she carefully draws back onto her hind legs and leans forward, taking the stem between her teeth. She waves her tail as she sits back. The flower stays tucked between her jaws.

 

_Mortals say flowers make pain easier._

_Red is a wonderful color._

_When it is not a sad color._

Polaris makes a happy noise at the back of her throat. She thinks they must be considering Syrreth. They seem sad now. She doesn’t like them being sad, because they’re calling her their sister and that means that they’re her brothers. She doesn’t want her brothers to be sad. She wants her brothers to be happy, and to visit her more, and to play games with her because she can sometimes get bored when no one is around.

 

_Her mortal is home now. He has killed the vile creature that attacked her._

_Is he concerned?_

_Yes. Poison does not affect creatures like Sister, though. It would take a more potent poison to even bother her._

_I shall return her._

When the enderman picks Polaris up again, Polaris tightens her hold on the poppy in her mouth. She doesn’t want to lose the gift she’s been given from her brother during the process of the teleportation. The endermen have been kind to her, all of them. She waits until they vanish and reappear before carefully setting the flower down, long enough to nuzzle her snout against the enderman’s cheek. She quickly lifts the flower, hops from its arms, and climbs up onto Jordan’s lap.

 

“There you are, Polaris,” Jordan breathes. “What are you soaked in? Is that poison? Are you okay?”

 

Polaris blinks up at him, hoping down from his lap in an effort not to get him poisoned just by contact. He scoops her up again, though. “You’re fine. I’m not getting it in anywhere, and I don’t have open wounds. You’re not going to poison me, Polaris,” he tells her.

 

She watches him for a moment before dropping the poppy into his lap. He smiles. “They gave you a present, huh? Lara said something like this might happen. I’m glad they’re being good to you. Maybe I’ll hang back from going to the End or after any of them for a while. I think I have enough enderpearls for a while. Walking won’t kill me.”

 

She purrs and nuzzles his neck, listening to the enderman who had brought her teleport away from the house. She doesn’t turn to look back. Jordan has killed that nasty witch, and the endermen will likely be back to check on her. Jordan is going to place nice with her brothers, too, so everyone can be happy.

 

But after having met a witch, Polaris really doesn’t think witches are nice.


	5. Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If someone had told him that taking in a phoenix would be this difficult, he might have decided to buy a smaller house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Referenced child abandonment  
> Phoenix rebirth mechanics  
> Parent being worried about child

Dante looks down at the wailing little thing in front of him. Tiny flames are surrounding it, and with every loud, long cry, the flames flicker in and out of existence. He knows what the little thing – _the little boy_ – is, and that it’s not uncommon for ones like him to be left behind by his flock. Maybe he was deemed sickly. Maybe he was too tiny or too slow to keep up with his mother, and his father, in typical fashion for their species, was directed not to pay mind to leaving the child behind. Regardless, the boy is wet and cold and refuses to stop bawling.

 

A fire demon himself, Dante has no concern about the fire surrounding the child. He scoops the boy up and cradles him against his chest, listening and feeling as the child slowly begins to calm. His own warmth wraps around the little boy, and the child responds warily in kind, pressing warmth against Dante’s chest. When the child is content, Dante takes in his appearance. Fiery red hair; golden eyes; tan skin – he’s a prime example of his breed.

 

Phoenixes were once a rare sight, but they’ve had time to mate and changed their behaviors accordingly. Men are told they need to have more than one mate, and the females are expected to tolerate it for the sake of the flock. For most phoenixes whom Dante has met, there is typically one preferred partner for a male, but it’s for the good of their species that their mating season is so active. Once mated, the women after left to tend to their eggs – and later their brood. An ill child or one dubbed a liability is abandoned by the flock and left to die since most other creatures won’t take in something as potentially volatile as a phoenix chick.

 

Dante doesn’t share the hesitation. He, himself, is a creature of fire. A child who would be at risk of setting his possession alight doesn’t strike him as a danger that overwhelms the desire to keep another creature alive. This child seems harmless, anyway, and in his care, the boy will learn to control his nature.

 

“Hello,” he greets softly.

 

The little, human-formed phoenix sniffles up at him, making small, cooing sounds. He hasn’t yet learned to talk. To Dante, that’s a sign of how his mother behaved with him. She had already decided that the little boy wouldn’t be following them during their migration to warmer temperatures. A phoenix his age should be able to form sentences already that would rival a human child of six-years, despite this child appearing only two- or three-years of age.

 

“You can stay with me,” he continues as he turns, walking in the direction of his car. He’d only stopped his chauffeur upon noticing the child sitting alone in the rain, puddles reflecting a burning form underneath his skin. “I have a large home, and you and I are quite similar. I may not be a phoenix like you, but I’m familiar with fire. My home is fire-proof.”

 

He sits down with the chick in his car, listening as the child continues to make noises. He gestures for his driver to take them back to his house. None of the child’s noises sound upset or afraid. Timid, perhaps – but that’s to be expected. Dante is a stranger to him, but he’s not perceived Dante to be a threat to him. Dante continues to talk while they wait to arrive at the house, and when he glances down after a moment – when the heat against his chest has faded into a steady warmth – he notices that the child is asleep.

 

 

As the little boy – Jace, Dante names him – gets older, his hair gets longer and fluffier. His eyes glow brighter and his affinity toward fire is the best way to decipher his mood. Dante learns that too much excitement, fear, or anger leads to things suddenly combusting, and a relax phoenix is a good phoenix. He buys Jace a candle when the boy turns six and starts teaching him to focus on the small wick, showing him how to concentrate his efforts on lighting it. Jace takes to it with some difficulty, but Dante blames that on the fact that Jace is reluctant as best to focus on any one thing for longer than a few moments. It’s not uncommon for a phoenix to have an attention disorder, but there are moments where he notices that Jace can become captivated by something.

 

Jace also starts learning how to speak. The first word he learns how to say all by himself is “Da” and he proudly tells that to Dante. He points at Dante one evening and says, loud and clear, “Da!” After that, and until Jace is far older, Dante is “Da.” Da is the person that Jace hides behind or clings to when strangers enter the house. Da is the person who introduces him to Mason’s young ‘daughter,’ Lara. Da is the person who tucks Jace in at night and reads him bedtime stories.

 

Da is also the person who nearly suffers from a panic attack when he can’t find Jace one morning, when Jace is ten and Da is probably six-hundred-or-so.

 

Until then, it had completely slipped Dante’s mind that phoenixes need to go through a rebirth cycle every year, otherwise they’ll end up getting sicker and sicker. It keeps them alive and rejuvenated. He’s never met a phoenix who hasn’t gone through it, but he’s also never experienced the symptoms.

 

When Jace is sick for a few days leading up to the event, Dante thinks nothing of it. A high temperature isn’t uncommon in a phoenix, and little ones do get sick. Jace has gotten sick before with the flu and been absolutely miserable, just like he is for those few days. Dante just pours him orange juice and sends him to bed, reminding the little boy to drink and get rest, and Dante will check up on him every few hours. If he gets sick, Jace knows to come to him so everything can get clean and changed.

 

But one day, Jace isn’t in bed. He doesn’t come down for breakfast. The shower never runs. Dante searches Jace’s bedroom, but finds it empty. And stars and sun, he panics. He rushes around the house, frantic. Something has happened to Jace. Something has happened to _his son._

 

He stops when he finds a strange pile of blankets and pillows in the closet attached to Jace’s room. It resembles a nest, and inside of the nest, lying in the recently charred center of the blankets, is Jace. His tiny body is covered in soot and ash, and his hair is more vibrant than it had been before. Outside of that, he looks every bit like the ten-year-old Da has raised and protected. He curses himself inwardly for not thinking of the closet. He’d ignored it because he’d thought that the handle was too high for Jace to reach, but clearly, he’s underestimated the boy.

 

When Jace stirs from his rebirth-induced slumber, he blinks his golden eyes up at Dante and then reaches up to rub at them. “Da, I’m cold… Can I have another blanket?”

 

Dante grabs him the heavy blanket off of his bed and kneels next to him, tucking it around the child. “I was worried about you,” he says.

 

Jace giggles drowsily, like he doesn’t quite understand why Dante had been about to consider tearing his house literally apart looking for him. “I’m okay, Da. I feel better, too,” Jace tells him, “don’t be scared now, okay?”

 

“I’m glad you feel better,” Dante offers. “But you’ll _always_ scare me.”

 

“How come…?”

 

“Because you’re my son, Jace.”

 

Jace smiles a bit. “Love you, Da.”

 

“Love you,” he returns, running his fingers through Jace’s soft hair, before drawing himself up to his full-height. “I’ll let you get back to sleep. Later, if you’re awake, I’ll send someone up with food. Consider today your day to be coddled. Tomorrow, we practice more.”

 

Jace nods, nestling deeper into the blankets around himself. He seems to find just the perfect spot because he dozes quickly off to sleep. Dante lets out a sigh of relief, backs out of the closet, and walks out of the room. He leaves the door open a bit, just in case.

 

If someone had told him that taking in a phoenix would be _this_ difficult, he might have decided to buy a smaller house.


	6. Blood Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today – or, rather, tonight – she is, though. Tonight, in Ruxomar, she’s furious. You’re both sort of angry because no one is doing anything. The Mianitees from the other world are just playing around. They’re pulling pranks on one another, or messing with magic that they clearly don’t understand, or they’re building things that are only hurting the realm. You’re a bit more than pissed yourself, but Luna is livid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Moderately graphic imagery  
> Animal abuse

You’ve learned over the past few eons that an angry Luna is a bad Luna. Her anger is rare, but it does happen, and with the way the realms have been recently, it seems like she’s gotten more and more testy. Normally, you’re the hot-headed one – you’re the _sun_ , dammit. Luna is the moon. She’s calm and peaceful and beautiful, but she’s _not_ angry. Not normally.

 

Today – or, rather, tonight – she is, though. Tonight, in Ruxomar, she’s furious. You’re both sort of angry because no one is doing anything. The Mianitees from the other world are just playing around. They’re pulling pranks on one another, or messing with magic that they _clearly_ don’t understand, or they’re building things that are only hurting the realm. You’re a bit more than pissed yourself, but Luna is _livid_.

 

For the first time in centuries, the moon is _burning_. You can see Luna standing among the mobs. There’s a chicken in her hands – or what looks like it was probably a chicken; it’s been torn apart and its insides are nonexistent now. A dead cow or three lay next to her feet. There’s a horse still whining in pain close by her, and a few other creatures that seem, now, to be just giving in to their inevitable fate as gravity crushes them. You try not to pay attention to how unstable and abnormal Luna is behaving because, really, you don’t think it’s completely her fault.

 

In the other worlds – the “human” world some people call it – the moon is only red when other things occur. Sometimes, you playfully interrupt your sister’s night and cause the moon to shine with a red or an orange gleam. In the past, humans thought it was means of sacrifice that made the moon red. It was a “sign of the apocalypse” and everyone would panic. Luna never caused it herself, though. Not like she is now.

 

Now, Luna is red and the moon is reflecting that. Her night is cast in a red tinge, which is allowing the more hostile mobs to wander about more aggressively. You and Luna are left alone, of course. No mobs dare touch the moon or sun. You’d burn them to little bits and Luna would send them on a one-way trip into the sky or into the earth below her feet, crushing their bodies with her ability to manipulate gravity.

 

“Luna,” you call. It’s too late to sway her night, but maybe you can garner back her sensibility.

 

“Do you not mean _Wisdom_?” She spits.

 

“No, I mean _Luna_ ,” you correct.

 

She hates that the Mianitees have given you both new titles. You know she does, but there’s nothing you two can do. In this world, she’s Wisdom and you’re Intuition, or she’s Justice and you’re Inspiration. You two have many names here, and Luna _despises_ all of them in a way that she loved Tsukiyomi, Hecate, Artemis, Artume, Mano, Mahina, Lona, and all kinds of others – but never _Wisdom_ or _Justice_.

 

She’s killed one of their horses now, and she probably won’t return it later. In other worlds, she would be so sorry for the rider’s loss that she would give him or her three or four to make up for it, but Luna _hates_ Ruxomar. The poor horse is lying at her feet, legs continuing to snap long past broken. You want to look away because the creature is just becoming more and more mangled as time goes on, and you _know_ that Luna can’t see it anymore. She’s drenched in red, and her night is red, and that poor horse is going to be unrecognizable before it’s a puddle of red. But Luna doesn’t see what she’s doing or have enough sense anymore to realize that it’s wrong.

 

And, suddenly, you’re the voice of reason.

 

“Luna, _stop_ ,” you bark. “Do I have to drag you to Mom or our brother? Marionette’s gonna be pissed if he sees you like this. You’ll literally never get the blood out of your hair. Ew.”

 

For the first time, Luna looks down at herself and drops what remains of the unfortunate chicken from her hands. There are feathers in her hair, and even the galaxies and stars you’ve grown used to seeing in her eyes and hair are red-tinged. Everything about her screams distressed, but her expression is blank and her gaze, when she looks at you again, is empty.

 

“I do not care,” she says after a moment. “They must suffer.”

 

“Why?” You challenge.

 

“Because they are doing an injustice by behaving in the manner they are,” she explains, “they are jaded. Where they loved their realm, they have forgotten how to care for this one. It is a _toy_ to them, and I wish not to entertain that. If they must die to save Ruxomar, then they shall die.”

 

“Mom’s already given up on this place, Lulu,” you point out, “I have. Marionette has. The Fates and Hel only enough to watch the place die. You’re the last one who cares about this shithole of a place. Let them help kill it already.”

 

“No! Ruxomar is still _alive_ , Solaris! I will not allow it to die if I can prevent it.”

 

“You _can’t_.”

 

“I—”

 

“ _You. Can’t. Lulu._ ”

 

She falls silent, picking pieces on bone out of her robes. You take it as a sign that you’ve been allowed to continue, “We aren’t like Atropos and the others, Luna. We’re not the Fates. It’s not our jobs to keep this world alive, and if our sisters have all given up, they don’t plan on trying to help you save it. Mom’s given up monitoring this world because it hurts her so much to see it falling apart because the gods here are total assholes and her friends have turned into monsters. No one is right anymore, not here. This realm’s gone to Hell in a handbasket, and it’s time to let it go.”

 

Luna remains quiet for a moment longer, hands moved up to pluck feathers out of her hair. The horse’s skeleton gives one disgusting, final crack before its body falls in to itself. To your relief, it doesn’t continue to morph into a horrendous form. It looks like the gravity has stopped, despite the red moon hanging in the sky still and the embodiment’s bloodied state.

 

“You are not going to break into song, are you? That song is obnoxious,” she comments, lips twitching upward into a half-hearted smile.

 

“Aw, you don’t like my singing?” You teases, feigning offense, “that’s a real shame, Lulu. I thought I was an expert. _Let it go! Let it_ —ack!”

 

You’ve been thrown into the air before you can react, but she lowers you safely back to the ground, snickering. “No, Solaris, you are tone-deaf,” she scolds. “Do not allow Marionette to encourage you to garner a YouTube career as a cover artist. You would be miserable at it.”

 

You cover your heart. “You wound me with your hate comments.”

 

“I regret nothing,” she laughs.

 

You smile. In the sky, the moon is burning red. The Mianitees are rushing around, absolutely baffled by the strange color, and avoiding mobs left and right as all sorts of creatures lunge toward them. Luna turns to look at the destruction she’s causing, but she doesn’t seem to care.

 

“Let it die,” she repeats quietly.

 

You nod. “Yeah. It’s lived a life. Time to let it go.”


	7. Costume Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante looks over, half-bored. Really, Braelynn could be taking Eris by herself for this, but they also had to pick up candy, decorations, candles, pumpkins, carving tools, and all kinds of other things that Braelynn absolutely demanded required Dante’s attention as well. Jace is supposed to be helping him, too, but the young man has darted ahead to look at costumes with Eris and Braelynn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> None

Dante looks over, half-bored. Really, Braelynn could be taking Eris by herself for this, but they also had to pick up candy, decorations, candles, pumpkins, carving tools, and all kinds of other things that Braelynn absolutely _demanded_ required Dante’s attention as well. Jace is supposed to be helping him, too, but the young man has darted ahead to look at costumes with Eris and Braelynn.

 

“What about this one?” Rae asks Eris, holding up a dark gray dress and darker gray cloak, with black leggings and tall gray boots. She lifts a bow up with her other hand. “Isn’t this cool, Eris?”

 

“I think it’d look better on you, Mommy,” Eris tells her. “Look! There’s an adult one! You should get that. Daddy can get the king one.”

 

Rae giggles and Jace snickers. The ‘king one’ comes complete with a fake, golden crown and a fluffy wrap that looks like it will itch wherever it touches his skin. Other than that, the outfit is gold and red. Dante scowls as Braelynn puts both costumes into the cart with a satisfied smile.

 

Jace picks up an outfit that looks similar to a knight or a prince. It looks regal enough to pass Dante’s silent critique, so Dante ignores it when Jace puts it into the cart with the others. He lifts a fake sword as well for a moment of play sword-fighting with Eris in the aisle once the little girl picks up another. While they play, Rae continues down the line of costumes, occasionally calling Eris’ attention to a costume idea.

 

After turning down a faerie, a witch, a princess, a superheroine, a vampire, and a few other costumes that Dante doesn’t know what to make of, Eris finally settles on one. Rae wraps the cloak around her and grins, handing Eris a wooden basket that’s been left near the pile of accessories. Eris giggles as she’s spun to face her father.

 

“Little Red Riding Hood,” Rae declares, flourishing her arms in Eris’ direction and looking at Dante for approval. “What do you think, Dante?”

 

“Who’s going to be the wolf?” He asks.

 

“Oh, I’m sure I can convince one of the triplets. Polaris and Silv are always up for a nice collaboration on Halloween. Draco would probably love it,” she answers. “What do you think, Eris? Should Draco be the wolf, or should Drake? We can ask Thanatos, too, if you want.”

 

“Let’s ask Draco,” Eris cheers.

 

Dante nods. “Maybe Drake can be the huntsman.”

 

“Pitting the boys against one another so young isn’t going to help anyone, Dante,” Rae scolds.

 

“Making moves on my daughter isn’t going to help anyone, either,” he reminds jokingly as he turns to leave the costume department.

 

“I totally ship it,” Rae calls after him, laughing.

 

 

Polaris and Silv walk through the store. The triplets have already darted into the costume section ahead of them, but Polaris is certain they won’t cause too much trouble. They’ll probably just play with the accessories for the minute-or-so walk that it takes to get there. While she and Silv walk, they discuss potential costume ideas for not only the twins, but themselves.

 

“So, Draco agreed to be the Big Bad Wolf for Eris,” Polaris reminds, “and Drake was thinking a wizard. Kaida wants to be something fun and cool, so I was thinking a ninja. What little kid _wouldn’t_ want to be a ninja?”

 

Silv chuckles. “Sounds like a plan. What about you? Are you going to dress up this year?”

 

Polaris nods. “I was thinking a vampire,” she admits. “Jinx told me she saw a pretty one here. I think I’ll see if someone hasn’t already bought it. She said it was red and black, with gold trimming.”

 

“I think I’ll buy something to match, then,” Silv says.

 

Polaris grins. “That’ll be fun. We can be the vampire couple, with our wolf, our ninja, and our wizard. No one will ever expect a thing when we steal all of their candy.”

 

Silv laughs, stopping when the triplets come running over with their costumes. Kaida’s is a purple and black outfit with a bandana-of-sorts to go around her head. She’s picked up a fake sword to go with it. Draco has a werewolf costume that has silver ‘fur’ that’s as soft as real fur. When he sets the costume in the cart, he bounces on his heels and screams “Roar!” before bursting into a fit of giggles. Drake places his costume in last. It’s a black and blue wizard outfit that Polaris recognizes as being from _Harry Potter_. The coloration is from Ravenclaw, of course, and Polaris smiles at him.

 

“Daddy’s going to go and grab Momma and his outfits, too, okay? Stay here with me,” she says.

 

The triplets nod and Silv leaves, returning a moment later with the outfit Jinx had mentioned and one that is very similar, but for a male. Instead of a dress, his outfit is a red and black vest over a white shirt, with black pants and black dress shoes. The collar of the shirt is tall in the back, and it has a tiny cape attached. Silv has also picked up two pairs of fake fangs.

 

“To the checkout,” Polaris announces.

 

 

“A nurse.”

 

“No.”

 

“A cat.”

 

“No.”

 

“A bun—”

 

“If you’re about to say ‘a bunny,’ then I advise you not continue that statement. Otherwise, you’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.”

 

Jay falls silent immediately. For a week, the twins have been talking about going Halloween costume shopping, and Jay has been a bit giddy himself. He doesn’t really ‘do’ Halloween, but it’s fun to dress up sometimes. It’s even more fun to trick people and get free candy, but the twins especially like the dressing up part of Halloween, probably because they’re too young to understand the fun in spooking others.

 

Lara, however, is only interested in getting the twins something they like and then being done with the whole ordeal. She doesn’t scare easy, and she doesn’t really care for candy. For as long as Jay’s known her, Lara has been near-impossible to scare if it’s not done by harming someone she loves (which Jay would never do because that’s not the type of scare he likes), and she’s never had a sweet-tooth unless she really needs sugar. Lara doesn’t like to dress up or scare others. She just doesn’t like Halloween and finds it to be more of an annoyance than anything.

 

The twins are busy looking through other costumes, so Jay turns away from his attempts to trick Lara into buying something sexy for the Halloween party that Braelynn has invited them to and instead focuses his attention on his two bundles of sugar-fueled excitement. To his disappointment, Thanatos has rejected the grim reaper costume and moved past it. Mara is glancing from costume to costume, not really interested in anything.

 

Jay pulls out the reaper costume and shows it to Mara. “Deathette,” he declares.

 

Mara looks over at the costume and grins, stepping over to feel the cloth. Jay warily looks over at Lara, remembering how she feels about that nickname for Mara (it’s not his fault Thanatos won’t accept being called ‘Death’ and Lara despises the name ‘Baby Death’). Lara is watching him, but she’s not saying anything. After a moment more, her gaze flickers over to Mara.

 

“Can I, Mommy?” Mara begs.

 

“Fine,” Lara concedes, “but this is the _only_ time of year your father is allowed to call you that.”

 

“Yay,” she cheers.

 

Jay sets the costume in the cart and peeks over at Thanatos. Thanatos has found what looks like a zombie-pirate outfit and he holds it up for his mother’s approval. When Lara nods, Thanatos sets the costume down in the cart with Mara’s. Jay plucks a sword and a scythe from a pile of items and hands one to either child. Lara watches for a moment longer before turning back to the costumes.

 

While the twins play with their new accessories, Jay wanders back over to Lara. She holds a few costumes up, and at first, he wonders what she’s doing. He quickly realizes, after she puts the third back with a frown, that she’s testing them against his height and build, frowning whenever any of them aren’t what she likes or what she believes will fit. Jay smiles a bit and then turns, sifting through another section of costumes, before doing the same to Lara.

 

“This one,” he says, handing a costume over to Lara.

 

She blinks down at the white cloth, inspecting the way the bottom of the dress fades into a light blue, and feeling the wrap that has the same coloration. While she inspects it, Jay picks up a golden laurel and places it on her head, smiling at her. She looks beautiful already, and he knows she’ll look even more beautiful in such an elegant costume. It’s nothing too revealing, so it should fit her fancy.

 

“It’s… acceptable,” she says, smiling at him to let him know that she really, really likes it, too, and she’s just teasing him now.

 

In the end, he winds up getting stuck with a white outfit similar to Lara, except with a golden shawl-like-thing to put over his shoulders. The twins are happy with their costumes, and Lara seems happy still with hers. It’s been a good shopping trip, and it will be a good party, too. Jay just can’t wait to see Lara looking like the goddess he believes she is.


	8. Alternate Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five alternate endings of "A Guardian's Vengeance" and five alternate endings of "Requiem of the Guardians."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Death. Lots and lots of death. (Nothing graphic.)  
> Being burnt alive.  
> Insanity.  
> Suffocation.  
> Alternate endings.

**_A Guardian’s Vengeance_ **

**I.**

 

The fire is up to your legs. You can feel it searing them, and you don’t really want to look, do you, Jay? But morbid fascination is still in your core, and you do look. Of course, you regret it. You regret seeing the horrible sight of your legs literally being burnt off of you. You can’t escape it, though. The fire is too high, and you’re too weak, and the lava is only beginning to close in more and more. Your wings are barely staying above the flames now, but you’re so numb that you can’t even feel the fire as it licks dangerously, teasingly up at your wings. The pain in your legs is gone, leaving you with a strange sense of loss there and cold that seems almost laughable when you know you’re going to burn alive.

 

Thinking back, you wonder where you went wrong. Maybe if you’d just shot the damn Mianitee, you’d have been alright. One arrow to Lara; a duck from Jace and Tom’s attack; an arrow into Mianite; into Jace; into all of the pathetic little humans. That was all you had to do, but you couldn’t do it, could you. You failed your creator, and now you’ve doomed yourself. None of them are going to care that you’re going to die a horrible death now, if they even consider whether or not you’re alive.

 

By the time the lava is up to your hips, you resign yourself to your fate. It isn’t much longer before darkness steals your vision. Your last moments are spent in unconsciousness, unaware of the clawing above your cell even as your body is consumed by the lava.

 

**II.**

The arrow pierces your spine and you howl, plummeting from the air. Your wings aren’t mobile enough anymore to catch you. It hurts _so much_ to have an arrow in your back, and as you land, you realize suddenly that you can’t move. Your body is numb. Your leg might be broken, too, but that’s not really important right now – because you can’t feel whether or not it is, even if it _looks_ like it is.

 

Climbing down from one of the cliffs is Tom, and hovering not far from him is Jace. Polaris is standing atop the cliff, looking down at them and giving off tiny, displeased noises. She turns and runs before you can even try to call after her, but no one else seems to have noticed her. Tom is too busy unsheathing his sword, raising it higher with every step, until he’s standing over you with a smirk.

 

“Got you,” he says, and he brings the blade down.

 

Before the sword ends your life, something warm frantically darts around inside of your chest. As soon as the sword hits, even the warmth goes static.

 

 **III.**  

 

How _dare_ he come here and have the _gal_ to accuse you of anything! How _dare he_! The Void is your home; it’s the only place where you can be alone and away from his _stupid_ sister. Damn him, and damn that Mianite-loyal _pet_ of a Guardian for being so awful to him! Why did he ever think any different about her? His creator told her how they would behave, and he was right. Just as Void suspected, Lara and Jace were loyal to their _owners_ and they manipulated him to get their way. Pesky. Petty. Little—

 

You look down, lowering your fist from Jace’s head.The Dianite-spawn has stopped struggling so much underneath you. In fact, he’s completely still. His chest isn’t rising or fall anymore. His face is bloody. His claws have slipped away from your arms, leaving small lines of cuts where they’d fallen after digging in to your flesh – or this illusion’s flesh. Jace’s golden eyes look like a dark shade of ochre now, hazy and dark and empty.

 

Clarity washes over you and you stumble back, falling off of Jace’s prone form. He’s dead. He’s _dead._ _He’s dead._ You just killed Lara’s brother. You just murdered the only person you know Lara really loves, and she’ll _never_ forgive you now. She’ll never forgive or forget what your anger caused you to do to the only person she’s had for all of her existence. What are you going to do _now_?

 

“Jace,” you call, reaching over to stir him. You know he won’t wake up, though, but you have to try. You _have_ to make him wake up, because if you don’t? If you don’t, there’s no point in leaving this place. Ever. Lara will never forgive you. “Jace, please. Jace, wake up. _Jace._ ”

 

It’s no use, as you expect. Jace is dead. Jace is dead, and you’ve sealed your fate, whether or not you ever leave the Void again. So you don’t.

 

Until you do, and even then, you barely acknowledge your feelings about it. Something inside of you is different. It doesn’t care. You leave your guilt behind and let your consciousness wander as your body does whatever it wants. When you come to again, everyone around you is dead, even the woman whose brother still lies dead in the Void.

 

**IV.**

 

You kill them once. The Mianitees, except for Jordan, all fall easily enough. Sonja suffocates. Tucker dies by your hand. Tom dies to one of your shadows. Jordan is only kept alive because you get distracted, and that’s only barely. You’ll find him later, though, and then you’ll find Jace. Polaris can live, though. She can live and go home to Ianite.

 

But no one else can.

 

As you look at Lara and notice how miserable her body looks suddenly – she’s pale and her wings are falling apart and she looks so sad – you try not to give into the sense of pity that you want to feel. You direct shadows to her feet and they swim up her body, trapping her legs and arms. Her wings, or what’s left of them, are next to be pinned against her. Her hair is forced against her back and neck, until all that’s left visible of her is her head.

 

She keeps telling you that she’s sorry and she loves you. If she loved you, wouldn’t she have been kinder? Wouldn’t she have come looking for you herself, or at least accepted your date? She doesn’t love you. She _pities_ you, and you don’t need pity from anyone. Especially not from her.

 

You remind her that she doesn’t need to be afraid of you. You’re not going to kill her, just subdue her. It sounds like a lie, and maybe it is one.

 

It definitely is one, because you let the shadows swarm her immediately and turn your gaze back to Jordan. He’s struggling two-fold to get free, likely to try and save Lara from her prison. It only take a flick of your wrist to send Jordan’s body falling limp to the ground. Soon, even Lara stops struggling.

 

You let yourself fade away for good once you run out of energy.

 

**V.**

Don’t cry.

 

That’s what you tell her. She’s too pretty to cry. Too kind. Too happy. She has so much more to live for than she has time to spend mourning over a sap like you, who’s going to die because you screwed up and wasted too much of yourself. You spent too much energy. You pushed yourself too far, and all for what? Revenge? Bitterness?

 

It all seems pretty worthless now. In hindsight, you can see why she refused your date offer. She was in pain herself and she was nervous. She’s loyal to Mianite – that’s definitely true – but you can tell she just didn’t want to see you hurt. She’d denied your offer because you were leaving and she wanted you to stay, despite the agony it would risk bringing her.

 

You call for Mianite and ask him to help Lara, despite her protests. Mianite is all too happy to oblige, and the god grabs her, vanishing with her before you can even offer a goodbye. She’ll be safe. Happy. Alive.

 

You look down at your hands, lowering to the ground. They’re transparent now. You can hardly see where your hand ends and the world around you begins; it all looks the same. So… you’re dying. Hooray? You’re just sorry Lara will have to live with your death.

 

 

**_Requiem of the Guardians_ **

 

****

In another world, you don’t recognize her. You’re so far gone because of Chaos’ influence that you don’t recognize the blonde lying under you as you pin her against the ground. She nicks her neck on a rock and you lean down, sniffing at her throat in the same way that a wolf would its prey. She smells nice, but not familiar to you this time.

 

This time, your brain shuts down. You don’t think of Chaos, or of anything else. The should-be-familiar blonde is squirming because of how close you are to her now, but that’s just more enticing. Her squirming is fun. The movement is fun and – are you playing a game? Or…

 

You lean in even close and lick the blood off of her neck, listening to the funny noise she makes. It sounds afraid. Good. She should be afraid of you. Everyone else is. And why shouldn’t a rabbit be afraid of a wolf? Oh, poor little rabbit. You nuzzle at her throat and she makes a different noise.

 

“W-Who…?” She starts, but she doesn’t continue.

 

You let out a purr and then—

 

“ _Jay, wait, no, stop,_ ” she shrieks, pain and fear swallowing her tone.

 

_Crunch._

 

You’ve snapped your jaws around her neck, serrated teeth digging into the skin and muscle. Something warm floods into your mouth and your purr as it continues to roll down your throat. In your chest, something far warmer is beginning to struggle, but it’s too weak to do much anymore. Your energy consumes it until, suddenly, the warm thing in your chest is gone. Below you, the should-be-familiar woman is still and gradually becoming colder and colder as less and less of the warm, sweet liquid travels down your throat.

 

When Chaos exits the cabin, you’re lapping the rest of the sweet, red liquid off of the woman’s pale neck. Chaos huffs, claiming your attention.

 

“Well, that’s not what I expected to see,” your queen tells you, “but I suppose it does just as good. Come back inside once you dispose of that body. I don’t want a corpse lying around. Ick.”

 

**II.**

You lunge forward quickly and catch her as the netherrack gives way under her feet. You spin, turning so your back is closer to the lava. The last thing you want is to see her hurt, even if she can’t remember you. You still love her. You know she’s not lava-proof like her brother is, and Jace and Amber are already in the Overworld, probably making out or something. You’re the only thing between her and a painful death.

 

Or maybe you aren’t.

 

There’s a small netherrack island _so close_ to you, but your wings dip down into the lava, and that’s it. As soon as your feathers touch the lava, your wings are engulfed and you lose all sense of purchase in the air. You panic and struggle quickly between trying to throw her to safety or give in to your knowledge that you’ll never be fast enough to spare her being burnt alive, too.

 

“I love you, Lara. I’m sorry,” you blurt out quickly, pulling her closer.

 

Before you hit the lava, you feel her nestle closer to you like she’s accepted her fate already, too.

 

“I love you, Jay,” is the last thing you ever hear.

 

**III.**

You’re sinking in the Void, and it actually hurts. Just under your feet, you can feel the flames at the bottom of the Void. Their fire is more potent than that of the Overworld or Nether, so you don’t really feel it very long. You can’t feel Chaos anymore, either. You hope the bitch is dead already, and that you don’t wind up in an afterlife where she exists. Maybe you’ll get to be in one where Lara remembers you, and you two are happy together.

 

You think you see a tiny glimmer of something, somewhere above you. Maybe you hear a voice, too. The light is fading, though, and it’s fading fast. Faster than your vision can start to darken. Whatever it is, it’s not doing too great. When the light goes out, the warmth in your chest starts to fade as well. You feel like you’re falling all over again, even though you almost can’t fall any further down.

 

Above you, suddenly, you see white feathers and something darting out around the familiar white. Shadows wind around Lara, capturing her even as she tries weakly to fight against them. Her limbs move sluggishly, like she’s too tired now to try to escape. The shadows seem to have no trouble subduing her. They start to coil tighter around her, and you want to scream because you’re watching her die _again_.

 

But you can’t scream. You can’t do anything. You’re dying in the Void, and so is she. At least, this time, maybe you’ll be together in your afterlife instead of her being alone…

 

**IV.**

Jace is quick – not as quick as Lara is – but he’s weak, especially in the Void. He may not be a creature like Lara is, who technically derives from the Aether more than from the Overworld like she claims, but he is still a creature of fire. A Netherian being has no place in the Void, and so the shadows threateningly lurch toward him the further down you both fall. Maybe if you let him do what he’s so nervous about, you can both get the hell out of here, but you don’t want to risk whatever it is. Some part of you is selfish about not wanting to feel more pain than you already have and are, so you shout up at him to find another damn way or leave you.

 

When a few of the shadows find Jace’s legs and try to yank him down faster than even you’re falling, he panics. Out of impulse, he lets go of you and you fall while he tries to get rid of the black masses trying to tear off his legs as more try to make grabs for his arms. It takes a few moments for Jace to get free, but by the time he does, you’re halfway in the flames of the Void, screaming as they burn you to pieces.

 

**V.**

 

You hate this. You hate being a prisoner in your own body, unable to do anything but watch while your damned creator controls it and laughs. You can see Lara’s hurt expression when he makes you tell her off. You can see the heartache flicker through her eyes when your voice spouts out, _“Maybe you should have let me die. We can’t seem to be together without fight. Maybe we shouldn’t be. But I need my rest. Bye.”_

 

Looking at her words from earlier now, you can see that she was joking, albeit harshly, and only had a little bit of bite to her tone. Lara loves you. She’s proven that, and you were just angry because you felt brushed aside. Some of her words had been too much like Chaos, and you’d gotten the lines blurred. But she’d come now to apologize, and you can’t say you forgive her – you understand, Lara, you do – because Void is the one calling the shots now, and you can only watch as she leaves, feeling like you’ve tossed her aside.

 

Later, she comes back, and you struggle so much harder. She’s talking about Declan not feeling well, and you know he isn’t. Gods, you’ve only been trying for the last hour to scream for help, but nothing is working. Void keeps sending static over your voice, and it must be killing the priest’s head. You like Declan; you don’t want to see Declan hurt like that. But Void doesn’t care a bit for Declan’s safety and pushes it aside, questioning why Lara would come running to him if Declan is so sick.

 

Something must trigger Lara to realize that there’s a serious problem because you can pick up the sugary-sweet tone her voice takes on. He can see something shift in her stance. Even if she doesn’t know how to fight, she’s making instinctive attempts to prepare herself. Her footing is a bit more spread out, almost shoulder-length like it should be. Her muscles look tense, like she’ll jump forward at the first sign of danger. Void seems to miss it, but you see it. You see all of it so clearly that it actually hurts.

 

She and Void tussle for a bit – or she tries to toss a bucket of water on him, and Void teleports out of the way before making grabs for her and missing. But, like you know, Lara isn’t a fighter. She’s not trained in fighting. She’s trained in peace-keeping and healing – and it shows because she allows herself to be backed toward a corner all while having a verbal match with Void that, to the god’s frustration, Void can’t keep up with.

 

When Void calls her “beautiful,” you scream.

 

When Void starts choking her, you fight.

 

When Void slams her against a wall hard enough that even you can hear her wings break, you tackle him and take brief control of yourself – but it’s not enough.

 

When Void takes control back as quickly as you knocked him out of it, you’re pinned against some invisible wall, and you’re forced to watch as Lara’s eyes start to slip closed.

 

Maybe, in another world, someone would be there to do something. In this world, Lara’s body falls limp and Void laughs, scooping her up to lay her almost affectionately down on the bed. Void folds her hands atop her stomach, fanning her hair out below her like she’s just sleeping, even though you know she’s not. There’s something sickening about the strange amount of care Void puts into the presentation before he calls for Mianite to come and look at the “beautiful sight.” The second Mianite appears, a sword has gone through the god’s belly, and Void laughs all the while as Mianite collapses.

 

And you give up.


	9. Kitsune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante is lighting the last of the candles in the house when he hears something. It’s not odd to hear a strange stumble or the sound of something being nudged against suddenly. His home is large and he has plenty of staff who live with him, not to mention a little phoenix chick who sometimes sleepwalks, for reasons Dante has yet to figure out. To say Dante thinks anything of the odd noise would be a lie, and he quickly returns his focus to the candles, wanting the familiar warmth and light that each of them bring, even during the night when everyone should be fast asleep in their beds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Attempted theft  
> Mentions of child abandonment

Dante is lighting the last of the candles in the house when he hears something. It’s not odd to hear a strange stumble or the sound of something being nudged against suddenly. His home is large and he has plenty of staff who live with him, not to mention a little phoenix chick who sometimes sleepwalks, for reasons Dante has yet to figure out. To say Dante thinks anything of the odd noise would be a lie, and he quickly returns his focus to the candles, wanting the familiar warmth and light that each of them bring, even during the night when everyone should be fast asleep in their beds.

 

When the noise sounds again, and then again, and then again, Dante feels himself getting frustrated enough to cause his palms to light up. He closes his fists, extinguishing the flames, before turning to walk toward the hall where the noise is coming from. He half-expects to see Jace there, playing with one of the vases or something, but the little phoenix is just peeking out of his bedroom door warily.

 

“Da,” he calls, fright apparent in his voice.

 

The fire demon moves over to Jace and scoops him up. Jace is shivering in his arms, clearly afraid, and Dante doesn’t blame him. Jace is six. Jace is too little to face any of his fears about the darkness, and certainly a noise in the dark is a scary thing. Children don’t know better than to be afraid of the unknown. Unlike a dragon, wolf, or vampire, Jace’s fears manifest in the shadows, so random noises that he can’t recognize as normal night-noises aren’t a comforting thought.

 

Dante carries Jace along as he walks toward the noise. He pours warmth into the boy’s body, causing Jace to begin to give quiet, rhythmic purrs of contentment. His body begins to go lax under the forming desire to sleep, but Jace is alert enough not to fully give in to that, despite Dante’s hopes that he does.

 

Dante nudges open the door to his office, frowning at what he sees. A figure is standing next to his safe, trying to open it without knowing the passcode. He watches the figure for a moment longer before clearing his throat loudly enough that they spin around, knocking their hood from their head. The would-be-thief is a beautiful, young woman with yellow eyes and dark hair, teeth barred at Dante. Around her is a red cloak, which darts around by itself in a pattern that almost seems nervous. Upon seeming to notice Jace in his arms, the woman purses her lips, as if to hide her sharpened teeth.

 

“What, might I ask, were you attempting?” Dante demands.

 

“Are you blind?” She counters.

 

“No. I just thought I’d give you a chance to be honest before I call for my security,” he replies. “Perhaps if you had reason, I’d let you have some of what’s in there – but I can see that you’re just a lowly thief and nothing more.”

 

“I wasn’t trying to steal from you,” she says.

 

Dante raises a disbelieving brow, huffing at her. The cloak lifts and she moves, positioning herself off slightly to the side of the safe. The light from the candles lit in the room casts her shadow onto the shiny mental of the safe, and in her shadow, Dante can see two pointed ears and multiple tails. Seven. She has seven tails.

 

A kitsune, and a rather powerful one at that.

 

“You’re trying to get your last two tails by committing petty theft?” He chuckles.

 

She scowls. “You don’t earn those. You gain them as you age. I was going to turn your riches to chocolate candies, actually,” she defends, “and then watch all of it melt thanks to the heat in this room. You ruined it. All of my hard work – for nothing.”

 

Dante has to admit to himself that it would have been amusing to see, had the riches not been his own. He doesn’t offer the kitsune any word, but Jace seems to have perked up at her words because the little phoenix turns to her and holds out a hand.

 

“Chocolate?” He requests.

 

“Jace, she likely doesn’t—” Dante attempts, but he’s silenced when the kitsune steps forward and places a Tootsie Roll in Jace’s hand. The phoenix grins and pulls his candy close, unwrapping it. Jace stuffs the piece of candy into his mouth.

 

“Make sure to chew it,” Dante sighs, earning a slight nod from Jace. He’s worked hard to teach Jace what to do and what not to do with his mouth full, and he’s grateful that his lessons have gone heard in situations other than fancy dinners.

 

The kitsune reaches forward and pats Jace on the head. “A phoenix child. Phoenix don’t usually mate outside of their flocks. Did you—”

 

Dante shakes his head. “I adopted him,” he answers simply.

 

She nods slowly. “I see… Well, he’s rather adorable. How old is he?”

 

“Six.”

 

“He’s incredibly young, then. Does he remember his parents?”

 

“You’re nosy, aren’t you,” Dante growls.

 

In her shadow, her ears flick down and her tails swat at the air. “I’m curious, not nosy. Don’t mistake my behavior, demon,” she retorts. “Phoenix children usually don’t survive for this long when they’re abandoned. I’m just grateful to see one alive after that. My intrigue isn’t with you; it’s with your son.”

 

He glares at her as her attention turns to Jace, who has finished his chocolate and has his hand out imploringly for another. The kitsune smiles softly, giving him a second piece of chocolate. She watches Jace as he eats and then turns her gaze back to Dante, huffing.

 

“It’s real candy,” she informs, “it’s nearly Halloween. I try to carry some around.”

 

“Do you have children?” He inquires, deciding to ignore her words.

 

At once, her behavior changes. Her shoulders droop; her tails fall, as if to go between her legs; her ears remain down. Her expression becomes somber and upset. The kitsune’s gaze trails away from him, and she shifts on her feet uncomfortably as she falls silent.

 

After a moment longer of quiet, she answers, “No. I… I don’t believe I’m capable.”

 

She forces a polite smile and reaches over, tussling Jace’s bangs. Her action earns her a smile and a giggle, which seems to make her eyes mist over even as the yellow shifts into a rusted-red. Dante notices that her stance is only slightly more secure with the response Jace has given to her, but the look in her eyes is slightly envious. He doesn’t worry, however, that she’ll try to rip Jace from his arms.

 

“That’s why I try to be kind to parents,” she says softly, “a child is so important to a parent, and the reverse. You are this child’s world. You are his everything. For someone to willingly give up their child… I couldn’t fathom it. I would never want to leave my child behind, and that’s why it’s so… strange to see a phoenix chick in the hands of someone who should not, by any means, have him. Most wouldn’t have adopted him. They would have left him where they found him and brushed aside the knowledge of what would happen…”

 

She looks at Dante and gives a smile. “You’re incredibly kind to have done this for him, or incredibly foolish. I hope, though, that it’s the former.”

 

Dante pauses a moment before handing Jace to her and stepping forward. He hears Jace murmur up at her idly, having finished his second piece of candy. To Dante’s relief – because he wouldn’t be getting Jace to sleep otherwise – Jace doesn’t request another candy. Instead, Jace and the kitsune spend time talking about who ‘Da’ is, and what ‘Da’ does, and how nice ‘Da’ is to not call security on her.

 

As Dante opens his safe, prepared to give up a portion of his riches, he overhears the kitsune tell Jace her name. Braelynn – or Rae for short. Braelynn is an aunt to a little human boy who is just a year-or-so younger than Jace, and sometimes she babysits for her cousin, who is a dragoness, who has two children. The eldest of her cousin’s children is just a few months younger than Jace, and the youngest is barely turning two. According to Braelynn, dragons are difficult to babysit because they’re all claws and teeth, but they’re very nice still. She asks Jace whether or not he’s ever celebrated the sun, or if Dante hasn’t introduced him to that yet. Jace asks her if she has, and she tells him the kitsune don’t do that normally.

 

“Here,” Dante says, drawing Braelynn’s attention. “Take some.”

 

“I told you, I didn’t come here to steal,” she reminds.

 

“Then allow me to give you a choice,” he says. “You can take some and cut your losses. Find another poor sap to trick, because I have to get Jace back to bed. Or you and I can make a bet. If you can sneak into my office and crack my safe, then I’ll not report you as a thief and you’re free to take whatever you please, save for Jace. If, by the summer solstice in a month, you can’t get into my safe, then you have to remain here, with Jace and I, for the rest of your existence – or until I tire of your tricks.”

 

“Always making deals, aren’t you demons?” She jokes. Dante doesn’t award her with a reaction, so she continues, “I’ll take the bet, then.”

 

Dante takes Jace back from her and watches as she walks out of the office. While he carries Jace back to bed and tucks the little phoenix in, all Jace talks about is how nice Braelynn is and how she would make a good mom. Dante doesn’t respond other than to tell Jace that he’s very kind to think so.

 

Two days later, Dante is trying to light the candles again and hears noises. This time, the noises are more furious and like breaking glass. When he walks down to his office and opens the door, a fox with seven tails is sitting on his desk. Its fur is black and its eyes are yellow. Tied around its throat is a red scarf that moves by itself, and is currently knocking the last of his possessions off of his desk. The scarf rears up, away from the stack of papers, and then falls still at the fox’s side, as if grateful to have his attention. The fox jerks its head in the direction of his safe and gets to its feet.

 

Dante looks up and notices that his safe is now wide open, but the fox doesn’t seem to have changed any. Despite that, the fox doesn’t seem too upset.

 

“I suppose you win,” he says.

 

The fox leaps at him. Instinctively, he reaches out to catch animal, but in his arms lands the same woman from the night before. She wraps her arms loosely around his neck. “I suppose I do,” Braelynn agrees.

 

“What prize do you want?” He asks, setting her down on the floor.

 

Braelynn leaves shortly after that without giving him an answer, but after three entire weeks of her showing up randomly during the days, Dante finally gives in and asks her again what she wants. When she smiles and strolls into one of the guest bedrooms, he expects it just to be one night – but, strangely, he never manages to get the ex-thief to leave, and eventually she becomes a familiar face for him. By the time they’re watching the first set of fireworks end during the first day of celebration for the summer solstice, he’s asked her to stay.


	10. Thaumcraft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whirl around, and look – there’s nothing there. The fog has rolled in around you, but there’s nothing in it. It’s so thick, though, that you can barely see. Can barely breathe. Except you can because the fog isn’t real. It’s a trick. Just a trick. Trick. Trick. Tri—
> 
> “Are you listening, Sync?”
> 
> “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Thaumcraft  
> Characters from other story

_‘There is something behind you…’_

_‘A fog appears, something stirs within its depths…’_

Whirl around, and look – there’s nothing there. The fog has rolled in around you, but there’s nothing in it. It’s so thick, though, that you can barely see. Can barely breathe. Except you can because the fog isn’t real. It’s a trick. Just a trick. Trick. Trick. Tri—

 

“Are you listening, Sync?”

 

“Yes.”

 

 

No, you aren’t. Jay’s probably been talking for ten minutes, and you haven’t heard a word. Well, you’ve heard a bit. Something about healing potions. Something about being an enderman still (which is really his fault, not yours). Something about Mishka? Maybe. You don’t remember. Did you hear her name, or are you hearing things?

 

“You’re acting weird,” he comments idly, playing with a potion bottle. “Are you… alright?”

 

“Oh! Are you worried about me, Mister Reality?” You tease. Maybe your voice has a bite to it that it shouldn’t. Jay’s not being awful, after all. He sounds genuinely concerned, right? “How sweet. I didn’t realize you cared.”

 

He huffs and doesn’t say anything more. He just plays with the bottle. You don’t remember what’s in it. Once upon a time, you labeled all of them. Now, you don’t. Now, there’s so much essentia in the basement and potions being brewed that what’s in the bottle might be some corpus essentia. You should probably take it from him, just in case it is. Wouldn’t want him sending someone a bottle of liquidized flesh instead of a potion of regeneration.

 

“Uh, Jay, give that here,” you say, holding out a hand for the bottle. “I don’t know what that is.”

 

He hands it to you and picks up another, and then another. “The ones you sent me before had labels.”

 

The ones you sent him before were sent long before the earth around your cabin turned a sickly eggplant-color and Mishka tried to rip out your throat because she couldn’t think straight. Before disgusting veins of purple crawled up the side of your home, causing you to retreat into your basement full-time, and create little golems to help you bottle essentia because your nights are too filled with other tasks for you to focus on doing it.

 

You set the bottle down off to the side, flinching when you catch sight of something lilac and tiny crawling over your hands. One mind spider turns into two, and then there’s an entire nest of them loosed along your desk. You shriek and flick your wrist, knocking the spider off of your hand and effectively whacking Jay across the head as you throw your arm up and away from the mind spiders.

 

_‘They’re everywhere! Run!’_

You knock your chair backward as you scramble to your feet. Jay recovers from the smack and grabs your hands, trying to steady you as you stumble over your own feet because of how quickly you try to move. You don’t like spiders – never have. They’re disgusting creatures with too many legs and too many eyes, and just knowing that these ones aren’t real makes them somehow worse. There are _so many_ of them now, and more keep appearing with every one that poofs out of existence.

 

“Sync,” he calls.

 

“I-I’m fine,” you protest, trying to jerk your hands free, but he’s stronger than you are. Curse the strength boost that comes with him being an enderman. You didn’t consider that when you made him one all that time ago. “I… I’m fine, Jay, let me go.”

 

“You’re fine?” He echoes, laughing. “Yeah, sure. And I suppose you’re going to tell me pigs can fly, too.”

 

“T-They can,” you answers. In some dimensions, yes – pigs can fly. Only, they’re called phygs and they’re not as cute when they’re babies. You’d think they would be because they constantly trip over their large wings, but they’re not.

 

But that’s not the argument you’re having right now.

 

Jay lets go of your hands and you turn. The mind spiders have all blinked out of existence, thank goodness. Your desk is clear of the menaces. Everything is okay again – for now. The golems are waiting on you to stack more fuel into the alchemical furnace for them to tend to, but you’ve run out of things. Jay was supposed to bring you more wood so you could fill up the terra jars that have been left unattended, but according to him, all of the trees for miles are tainted.

 

The city is even beginning to become infected, and it’s only a matter of time before crops and people fall ill.

 

“You… You came for ethereal blooms, right? They’re in that chest over there.” You flourish your arm in the direction of a chest, over against the wall with about twelve other chests. Most of them hold essentia that you haven’t been able to fit into the shelves. None of them are labeled, though. You should really work on labeling them.

 

He wanders over to sift through the chests and you grimace. Something washes over you, leaving you feel weak and ill. You make it two steps closer to your desk before you stumble and—

 

“Sync!”

 

Oh, thanks…

 

Jay helps to steady you on your feet, frowning at you. He’s taller than you, even without his height increasing when he’s angry. Now, though, he’s not angry; he’s concerned. Your stomach really hurts, though, and so you turn yourself as best away from him as you can. While he fusses over your well-being, you just focus on not emptying the contents of your stomach onto his nice, shiny shoes because, really, not everything has to be that disgusting color of purple that’s outside.

 

“You have a fever, Sync. Were you sick earlier?” He’s asking. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve said ‘screw the ethereal blooms’ if I knew you were sick. You should be asleep, not wasting time pushing yourself like this and—”

 

“I appreciate the sentiment, but if you don’t stop moving, I’m going to throw up on you, Jay Reality,” you warn.

 

He stops moving immediately and you sigh, swallowing past a knot form by stomach pain, and say, “I’m not sick. I’m… tainted, or warped. Call it what you will.”

 

“You’re insane?” He says.

 

“No. It’s not—it’s not the same thing. It’s—could you help me sit down? I can’t move. I feel like I’ll be sick if I move. Thank you,” you offer as he carefully lays you down on the bed you teleported into the basement a week ago. “You’re going to get sick, too, you know.”

 

“Tainted?”

 

“No, just sick. Flux flu.”

 

“What’s tainted mean?”

 

“If an animal or a person gets tainted without lowering their levels of warp, they’ll lose their control. They’ll attack anything on sight – like Mishka did to me. All that purple gunk outside finally wormed its way past her self-control and took over her. She should be doing better back in the End, but…”

 

“But?”

 

“But I used up the last of supplies on her. I had to find a way to dunk an Enderdragon into a vat of water full of bath salts and soaps without her tearing me apart or lighting me on fire. It took a few attempts.”

 

“So… you don’t have a cure for yourself?” He asks slowly.

 

Shake your head.

 

“No,” you answer, “I tried to get in contact with other sorcerers and sorceresses, but they all pretty much said that I ‘deserved it’ because I helped ruin their lives. Guess I deserved that after what happened with your company. The only sorcerer willing to help me was infected by the taint himself, and wanted to give me his supplies in exchange for my help poisoning the water supply of a county that hated him. It didn’t seem like a good deal. He gets what he wants, and I probably get to spend my life in prison for attempted genocide.”

 

“I’d agree,” he says, and you close your eyes. “Tired?”

 

“Exhausted,” you mumble.

 

“Sleep, Sync,” he sighs. “I’m gonna pass out over there, since someone got me sick.”

 

“Cope, enderman,” you snicker.


	11. At the Crossroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silv looks up when he hears a long, loud, high-pitched whistle that he can only describe as what is clearly meant to be a wolf-whistle. He draws himself to his full-height, glancing at the woman before him. Her dark hair makes her skin stand out like charcoal against the snow. Most men might find her attractive and wonder what a pretty girl like her is doing out in the middle of nowhere during a dark, cold night, but he knows better. She’s a demon – a crossroads’ demon. One of the deal-makers and brokers of Hell. And that cute body of hers? An unwilling host, who may or may not already be dead inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Deals with demons

Silv looks up when he hears a long, loud, high-pitched whistle that he can only describe as what is clearly meant to be a wolf-whistle. He draws himself to his full-height, glancing at the woman before him. Her dark hair makes her skin stand out like charcoal against the snow. Most men might find her attractive and wonder what a pretty girl like her is doing out in the middle of nowhere during a dark, cold night, but he knows better. She’s a demon – a crossroads’ demon. One of the deal-makers and brokers of Hell. And that cute body of hers? An unwilling host, who may or may not already be dead inside.

 

Crossroads’ demons are meant to be attractive. When it comes to them, sex is a good selling point. At least, that’s what he thinks. All of the ones he’s ever seen have heard of are attractive men or women who show up, seduce their client with the promise of grandeur, love, or other things, and then seal the deal with a kiss. They take hosts who are attractive to help ensure their deal will go through – and if that doesn’t work, they threaten or torment.

 

Silv has witnessed even the strongest and most willful of people crumble when they’re finally approached by one of these demons. Of course, they’re already desperate if they’ve come to the crossroad. If you go this far, you’re not going turn around now and put all of your hard work and desire to sacrifice to waste, are you. He’s never met a soul who’s been strong enough to turn away now.

 

To be honest, Silv doesn’t remember why he’s been driven to this point. He has a good job and a nice family. All of his life, he’s had the usual cases of good or bad luck; he’s neither lucky, nor unlucky. He doesn’t have a girlfriend, but he’s not really looking for a relationship at the moment. He doesn’t want money, or love, or power. He doesn’t really care about ‘world peace’ or any of that, because he’s pretty sure that’s too big of a wish for any lowly demon to grant.

 

But, here he is, standing in front of this demon wearing a pretty girl as a meat suit, with a box buried at his feet in the center of the crossroad. He’s waiting to make a sacrifice – but for what?

 

“Well, _hello_ , handsome,” the demon purrs as she walks over to him. She doesn’t stay in front of him for long, choosing instead to circle around him like a lioness waiting to strike her prey. “Not very often I see a pretty penny like you.”

 

“I’m not an object,” he protests, forcing strength into his tone.

 

“Right, right. Sorry, sweetie,” she snickers. “Anyway… Silv, right? That short for Sylvester?”

 

“Nope. It’s a nickname my brother gave me,” he answers. “I have silver contacts. Have since I was a kid.”

 

She stops in front of him and grins, eyes melting from their pretty milk-chocolate to a brilliant red. “That’s _so_ cute. But what can I do for you, handsome?”

 

“I need a bit of help.”

 

“Don’t you all.”

 

“Your sass isn’t necessary.”

 

“No, but _I’m_ the only one who can grant what you want, so I’m disinclined to care what you think about my sass, kiddo.”

 

Silv huffs. She’s right. Of course, she is. Demons are always right when it comes to things like that because they know their business, and they know how to have power over the person standing in front of them because that person’s probably pretty damn desperate to be in front of one of these demons. He’s not, though… right?

 

“Who’s the girl you’re possessing?” He asks.

 

The demon blinks, seeming caught off-guard by his question. “What?”

 

“Who is she?” He repeats.

 

At first, the demon still looks confused, but she quickly laughs like she’s trying to cover up her brief worry. “Her? Oh, no one important! Just some girl from the west coast.”

 

He pulls out his phone while the demon continues to talk and looks up a few things before flipping the phone to face her. “Polaris Night. Daughter of one of three owners of the Night Corporation, a wealthy branch of software managers. Recently enrolled in USC Glorya Kaufman School of Dance. DJs during the night at a local club,” he rambles off. “Funny, the things you can find about a person when you’ve seen their face.”

 

“Cute FAQ,” she says, “but how is that—?”

 

“She’s an innocent person. She has a clean history – no crime records, no mention of drugs or alcohol – and you chose her,” he continues, “why?”

 

“Why does any demon choose anyone?”

 

“Because you’re cowards. I want you out of her. I want all of you to leave she and her loved ones alone, for the rest of her life.”

 

“Is that your wish?”

 

“Yes,” he answers immediately.

 

The demon snickers and saunters over, kissing his lips. As soon as her lips pull away from his, the demon and young woman vanish. Silv turns and walks back to his truck, sitting in the driver’s seat in silence for a few moments.

 

A month later, he finds himself in California, showing up at the Night Corporation. The main business owner has died of a heart attack and his daughter had been given full control of the business when the other two owners backed out. Lara Night offers him a job right away and he takes it, meeting Polaris another week later.

 

In two weeks, he’s dating Polaris.

 

In six months since meeting her, they’re engaged.

 

A year after the deal, they’re married – and Silv can almost hear all of Hell screaming because of the loophole in the deal.


	12. Virus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Impulsively, Vincent adjusts the volume on his speakers, altering the levels and bass amount to try and fix the strange skipping her voice seems to cause. She’s probably been active for too long. He reaches down to feel the side of his tower, but it doesn’t feel overly warm like it should if she’s malfunctioning. When he locks up at her again, it looks like her avatar’s colors are slightly faded and almost grayer than normal. Her eyes are dark and hazy, half-lidded like she’s beginning to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Implied character death (technically? Non-graphic.)  
> Chapter about computer virus.

“Hello, World!”

 

“CHAOS, I thought I gave you instructions on what to say when I turn my computer on.”

 

The computer program giggles. The AI then turns a grin in Vincent’s direction, rocking back and forth on the ball of her heels as she watches him from inside of the monitor. Today, she’s been in existence for three years. She’s been an integral part of his life – making sure he stays on schedule, his work gets done, and he has time to spend with his son. Without her, he’s not sure how he would have survived the last few years.

 

“Hello, Vincent,” she greets in a tone much softer.

 

“Hello, CHAOS,” he replies. “How’s everything running?”

 

“All systems are running smoothly,” she answers, smiling again, before she turns and brings up an internet page. She pulls down the favorite’s menu and searches. When she seems to find what she wants, she taps on the page.

 

Vincent watches her as she flips through picture after picture of cats. They’ve been talking about the possibility of Vincent buying Jay a pet, and ever since seeing a kitten on a YouTube video, CHAOS has been intrigued by cats. He knows that she likes how lithe they are and how silly they can be. Honestly, a cat is probably an easier pet than a dog. At least Vincent won’t have to worry about Jay losing control of it, or getting trampled by it.

 

CHAOS stops on a picture of a black kitten that one of Vincent’s friends is selling. The woman’s cat recently had a litter of black kittens, and there’s only a couple left for purchase. When Vincent nods, CHAOS types out a message and ships it off to the woman.

 

“Tell me when a reply comes in,” he directs, and the AI’s avatar nods.

 

Vincent opens his mouth to say something else, but he stops when he hears Jay calling for him. “I’ve got to go.”

 

“Basketball,” CHAOS says, almost idly. “Will you leave your computer on so that I can monitor the post? If you turn it off, I may miss a response and then he won’t be able to get Casper.”

 

“Casper?” Vincent asks.

 

CHAOS nods. “The friendly ghost. It’s nearly Halloween. Wouldn’t Casper be a perfect name for the cat?”

 

Vincent laughs, getting up from his chair. “It would be,” he agrees, “but I’ve got to go.”

 

As he leaves, he swears he sees something change in her eyes. It seems almost angry, but he brushes the strange sight off. CHAOS is used to him leaving. He shuts the light off and closes the door behind him. Jay is going to be late if he doesn’t hurry.

 

When he gets back to CHAOS two hours later, the AI is sitting down on his taskbar, watching the post with a bored expression. The woman has gotten back to him and offered him the kitten for a couple-hundred dollars and CHAOS has taken the liberty to accept the deal on his behalf. He’s not angry, per say, but he’s confused. CHAOS has never made any monetary transactions without his permission before, and he doesn’t remember agreeing to let her go ahead and accept any offer. Luckily, it’s not more money than he was willing to spend on a purebred cat’s kitten.

 

“Thanks, CHAOS,” he says reluctantly.

 

“You’re w _el_ come,” she replies, audio crackling strangely.

 

Impulsively, Vincent adjusts the volume on his speakers, altering the levels and bass amount to try and fix the strange skipping her voice seems to cause. She’s probably been active for too long. He reaches down to feel the side of his tower, but it doesn’t feel overly warm like it should if she’s malfunctioning. When he locks up at her again, it looks like her avatar’s colors are slightly faded and almost grayer than normal. Her eyes are dark and hazy, half-lidded like she’s beginning to fall asleep.

 

He frowns. “Are you alright?”

 

“T _i_ red,” she replies, “ _ve_ ry tire _d_ , Vin _cent_.”

 

He nods. “Alright. I’ll shut you down. I’m going to be on the computer for a while longer, but you should rest.”

 

She keeps silent, looking still at the post. Vincent moves his mouse over to her icon on the lower right of his screen, clicking on it to bring up her control panel. He moves the cursor over the ‘Shut Down’ button and clicks. CHAOS’ avatar disappears with the sound of a yawn, as it usually does.

 

For an hour, he scrolls through emails and edits his calendar. Usually, CHAOS does this for him, but tonight, she’s tired. He’s not too sure what’s wrong with her. His computer isn’t overheating, and it’s not acting strange. After a few more moments of browsing the internet, he opens his antivirus and starts running it. Nothing odd. A few temps and a minor bit of adware, but he quickly disposes of everything. The adware is removed and his temps are emptied out.

 

_Incoming Call!_

He clicks on the ‘Accept’ button and goes to greet the person on the other end, but the call is full of static. He doesn’t hear a voice under it, either, so he ends the call, deciding it’s probably a wrong number or a really bad telemarketing company.

 

_Incoming Call!_

‘Accept.’

 

Static. 

 

Hang up.

 

_Incoming Call!_

‘Accept.’

 

Static. 

 

Hang up.

 

_Incoming Call!_

‘Accept.’

 

Static. 

 

“Who is this?”

 

Static.

 

“This isn’t funny.”

 

Static.

 

“Don’t call this number again.”

 

Static. 

 

Hang up.

 

_Incoming Call!_

‘Deny.’

 

_Incoming Call!_

‘Deny.’

 

_Incoming Call!_

‘Deny.’

 

_Incoming Call!_

Vincent does nothing.

 

_Send caller to voicemail?_

‘Accept.’

 

_Incoming Call!_

 

Nothing.

 

_Send caller to voicemail?_

‘Accept.’

 

Vincent waits to see if the person will call again, but no one does. After a few moments, he starts up his voicemail and listens. Both of the messages are only seconds long of the same, garbled static from earlier. There’s nothing else to them. There’s no voices underneath the static. When he tries to peek at the numbers in the call log, they just read the number his computer can dial out from. Why is his own computer calling him?

 

He deletes the messages and notices a new message on his email. He clicks on the application and suddenly, one email is twenty. Forty. Sixty. One hundred. He blinks, trying to delete what looks to be empty emails as quickly as they come in. Each one is from ‘himself,’ but none of them have anything written. There’s no subject or message. It’s blank.

 

His antivirus suddenly pops up, reading in a bolded, red message: WARNING! VIRUS DETECTED. MOVE TO VAULT? REMOVE?

 

He frowns, clicking around to find out what the virus is. When the details finally pop up, his heart drops. The virus has latched on to CHAOS’ programming. It’s probably what’s been causing her to act so strangely, and him leaving her alone and active like he did has probably only given it time to strangle her firewall. CHAOS is infected and, according to his computer, no longer a useable or safe function. Part of him worries for his bank account; another part worries for the AI he spent almost a year perfectly and three years getting used to having in his life.

 

_Help._

Vincent’s attention turns immediately to the message that’s popped up on his screen. The window holding it is purple, like the ones CHAOS usually will bring up whenever his volume is off and she can’t vocally communicate with him. One message quickly turns into multiple, as they pop up repeatedly across his screen.

 

_Help._

_Help._

_Help_

_Help._

 

_Help._

 

_Help._

 

_Help._

_VINCENT, HELP ME!_

_YOUR ANTIVIRUS IS TRYING TO EAT ME._

_HELP ME, VINCENT!_

_I DON’T WANT TO BE DELETED._

_DON’T DELETE ME._

_DON **’T** **DE** LE **TE M** E._

“CHAOS…”

 

He moves his hand away from the mouse, watching as more and more purple messages pop up on the screen. CHAOS is frantic and begging him. He wonders if he should really feel this bad about potentially getting rid of her. She’s just a machine. She’s just a piece of software that he made. It’s not like she can really be afraid or in pain. AI can’t do that. She can say what she wants, but it doesn’t make it true. So why is he reluctant to delete her? Because he put time into her creation?

 

“CHAOS, I have to do something,” he mutters.

 

_YOUR ANTIVIRUS IS TRYING TO **DELETE ME** , VINCENT._

_I DON’T WANT TO BE IN THE VAULT._

_DON’T LET IT DO IT._

_DON’T LET IT **DELETE ME!**_

****

****

_VINCENT, **PLEASE.**_

****

**_D_ **

****

**_E_ **

****

**_L_ **

****

**_E_ **

****

**_T_ **

****

**_E_ **

****

**_M_ **

****

**_E_ **

****

**_,_ **

****

**_V_ **

****

**_I_ **

****

**_N_ **

****

**_C_ **

****

**_E_ **

****

**_N_ **

****

**_T_ **

****

**_._ **

****

Vincent stares at the string of messages for a while longer before at least ten more pop up, completely garbled and incoherent. He notices that some of the letters are always bolded. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what it means, even though it will kill him inside.

 

“I have a backup,” he says to himself as he clicks the ‘remove’ option. A few more frantic messages pop up on the screen, but he forces himself to ignore them. Before the program vanishes from his sight, he sees a final message: _thankyouVincent._


	13. Server Errors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s strange, watching the world fall apart. Little hunks of rock that once existed – gone. Lava turned into smoke and nothing else. Water dried up to reveal sand and gravel and clay that was once beneath it, and don’t get anyone started on the squids. They were always strange creatures anyway. The grass is drying up, too, leaving the peaceful mobs digging at the dirt below their feet to try and find some speck of food to eat – but as they die off from starvation and the rampant diseases spreading through the land, so do the mobs and people who eat them. The aggressive mobs like creeper and skeletons, zombies and spiders, even seem to realize that the world is dying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings:  
> Non-graphic character death (non-permanent; character slain in Minecraft)  
> Swearing  
> Computer issues

It’s strange, watching the world fall apart. Little hunks of rock that once existed – gone. Lava turned into smoke and nothing else. Water dried up to reveal sand and gravel and clay that was once beneath it, and don’t get anyone started on the squids. They were always strange creatures anyway. The grass is drying up, too, leaving the peaceful mobs digging at the dirt below their feet to try and find _some_ speck of food to eat – but as they die off from starvation and the rampant diseases spreading through the land, so do the mobs and people who eat them. The aggressive mobs like creeper and skeletons, zombies and spiders, even seem to realize that the world is _dying_.

 

“Infected,” the Mianitees call it.

 

“Dying,” the Guardians call it.

 

“Worthless,” the gods call it.

 

All of the realms are dying. The Nether is wasting away while all of the lava within it turns to air. Ianarea has sunk into the ocean, and the End has crumbled into the Void. The Overworld is rotting from the inside-out. The Void and Aether are being purged of their natural elements in the last ditch efforts to survive the cataclysms and keep the Overworld alive.

 

But the gods are already too far gone.

 

Ianite has been consumed by the Void, despite her strength to usual invulnerability toward the nothingness. Dianite has spread fire throughout the Overworld, no longer caring what burns in his path, until he lights even his followers’ homes up in the blaze. Mianite strikes out at his followers as well with a destructive prowess that no one knew he held. The God of the Void rises from his home and with a flick of his wrist, shadows lurch up from their tied positions, swallowing what used to cast them.

 

Like their creators, the Guardians aren’t immune to this… plague that has come over the realms. Tom and Nade return to see their home burnt to the ground, and promptly receive a sword through each of their chests. The blade burns through them with ease. They never saw Jace sneaking up behind them, amber eyes a strange, electric green, body lined with similarly-green veins. Tucker and Sonja meet a similar end to one of Mianite’s blades, in the hands of Lara, only Lara lets out a giggle that almost seems haunting coming from the Guardian who had spent so long coddling them. Polaris leaps at Jordan as soon as he steps in through the door to his home. Her scales are a pattern of green and black, with her eyes a burning lime rather than their usual purple-pink. Jay does away with the other Mianitees with an arrow to their bodies, which causes their forms to crumble into little shards of white.

 

 

_Game over!_

_Score: 0_

_You cannot respawn in hardcore mode!_

_Delete world?_

“Dec, what the fuck’s going on?” Tucker demands, staring at the screen. He can hear the others pitching a similar protest. Mianite’s not supposed to be on a hardcore world; it’s never been before. “Also, that score is bullshit. I know I got more points than that.”

 

“Dude, who cares about the score?” Tom says. “I care more about our world! We had some much done! Who switched the server to hardcore? How’d they even do it?”

 

“Yeah, I don’t think you can once you start a world,” Jordan agrees, “you can only change between peaceful, easy, and hard – not hardcore. So what just happened?”

 

“Hashtag blame Dec,” Sonja declares.

 

It’s embarrassing. Everyone on his stream is looking at the same screen he is, but no one seems to know what’s going on. Most of them seem to think it’s some sort of joke. Tucker’s tempted to play along like it is and then just advise everyone shut down the streams. Play it off. Pretend they’re fixing it. But, no, they deserve to know. Everyone in their streams came here for Mianite, not to be told fifteen minutes into the stream that “whoops, sorry, we have to end really early tonight.” Especially since he won’t be playing something else until Dec can explain what the _fuck_ is going on with the server.

 

“I-I don’t know,” Declan stumbles out as he signs into the team speak. “It’s never done this before. Usually, it runs just fine. Let me check.”

 

The others talk while Declan checks, but Tucker distracts himself with his chat, muting himself from the call. The chat, seeming now to realize it isn’t part of the game, start throwing out suggestions.

 

 _Blame Dec,_ a bunch of them laugh.

 

 _Maybe it’s an update? Or an update error?_ A few chip in.

 

 _A virus?_ A larger few suggest.

 

“God, I hope it’s not a virus,” Tucker mumbles.

 

 _Nvidia,_ a few more joke.

 

That at least earns a smirk from Tucker, but he’s quickly taken back to the call when Dec speaks up, “Try to just close out of Minecraft and start up the server again. I grabbed the backup of the world. You’ve lost what you did today, but it should be good enough.”

 

“Didn’t do much, Dec. We just got on and everything was shit,” Sonja informs.

 

“Well, I think I’ve fixed it,” Declan offers. “Hashtag thank Dec.”

 

“We’ll see,” Tom teases.

 

Tucker follows the instructions he’s been given. He closes out of Minecraft, reopens it, and tries to log into the server. For the first couple of times, he gets an error. After the third time, he finally gets the server up and waits, anxious to see his base.

 

 

Only… his base is still destroyed. He and Sonja both respawn where they were killed, but the base around him is in pieces. Chunks of the castle have been blown out, and the blocks on the ground are despawning faster than they can grab them. Tucker stops trying to pick up the pieces of the base when he notices there’s too much for he or Sonja to carry in their inventories anyway, even if they managed to collect some of it. It’s not like they’ll be able to rebuild the place without the Wizards, and they’re all busy doing other FyreUK stuff.

 

“Someone send Wag a message on Twitter,” he says to the Twitch chat. “Tell him we need them over on Mianite. Yesterday.”

 

“Tucker, this looks horrible,” Sonja laments. “Dec, didn’t you say you reverted to the backup? Why did it save when everything was destroyed if no one way on the server?”

 

Declan makes a noise. “I don’t know. It’s never done this before.”

 

“Maybe you should try turning the server on and off,” Tom half-heartedly suggests.

 

“I did,” Dec admits sheepishly, “it should be running smoothly. It says it is.”

 

“Maybe—” Jordan starts.

 

_Lara: You’re back? I thought we killed you._

_II_JERiiCHO_II: Uh… yeah, that wasn’t nice._

_SynHD: Dude, Jace, what the hell?!_

_Jace: Why’d you come back?_

_Lara: Haven’t you done enough damage already?_

_Jace: Go away._

**_SynHD has been slain by Jace._ **

****

“What the fuck! I got hardcore again,” Tom announces. “Dec! What the fuck’s going on with these NPCs?”

 

“What kind of joke is this?” Jordan asks, before a message pops up that he’s been slain by Polaris, the dragon Guardian given to him by Ianite.

 

On the screen, Lara is standing in front of Tucker and Sonja. A sword is held in her hand, at the ready. Behind her, looming protectively over her shoulder, is the ‘mercenary’ Guardian, Jay, who belongs to the Void. Tucker can’t easily spot any of the gods, but he can hear explosions up above and see water beginning to rain down over the sides of the castle. One of the three gods remaining are up near the pool, destroying it.

 

Dec huffs. “It’s not a joke! I don’t know what’s going on, either. The NPCs were programmed to be helpful, not to be destructive. They shouldn’t even have these capabilities. Well, unless the crew members made accounts under their names to troll you – but that would normally have gone through me. I’d have known about it, and you guys wouldn’t be getting the hardcore game over screen.”

 

“Uh… should we be worried that Lara and Jay are hanging out?” Tucker asks.

 

“Invite the bastards for tea,” Tom grumbles.

 

_II_JERiiCHO_II: So… tea party?_

_Lara: No._

_Jay: You heard her._

_OMGitsfirefoxx: Heyy… then what’s up?_

_Lara: Botnet._

“Botnet?” Sonja repeats.

 

“Botnet?” Dec echoes, seeming to understand something. Tucker notices his chat going crazy over that one word. A bunch of self-claimed tech wizzes start writing up what a botnet is, and some other post Google pages.

 

The server drops suddenly. Tucker sighs in frustration, leaning back in his chair. Normally, if the server goes down, they’d all just play on another server. Mini-games or something. But no one suggests it, even in chat. The chat is too busy being distracted over what a botnet is, and some people still questioning whether or not the entire ordeal is an elaborate joke.

 

“We’re not screwing with you, guys,” Tom announces, “we don’t know what’s going on. The Guardians aren’t usually controlled by anyone in the crew behind the scenes. Dec usually programs them to say certain things before we record, which even usually we don’t know.”

 

“They literally can’t do anything else normally,” Jordan chips in helpfully, “they’re just custom NPCs. That’s it. The people who play the gods pretend to interact with them.”

 

“I got a message a few minutes ago saying that the people who play the gods don’t have access to their accounts,” Dec admits. “I tried to make an account with the Guardians’ names, too, but it wouldn’t let me. The accounts are already registered.”

 

“Can you tell who’s logged in right now?” Sonja asks.

 

Declan sighs. “I normally can.”

 

Tom huffs. “So you can’t right now?”

 

“No. Whoever’s messing with us has found a way to hide their IP address from me,” he answers. “My antivirus found something last night. They must’ve gotten the server IP from the virus that was on my computer.”

 

“And now they’ve destroyed our world,” Sonja mutters.

 

“The chat’s going nuts about that botnet thing,” Tucker points out. “According to them, it’s a virus that takes over part of the computer and lets the virus’ creator control it. You think that’s how they did all of it?”

 

Dec makes a confirming noise. “Sounds like it. We’ll have to start a brand new server, and the other backups I have of the world are set incredibly far back.”

 

Tom groans. “We’ll just have to deal with it, right?”

 

“Right,” Jordan agrees.

 

Tucker frowns. “Well, I think we should call the Mianite portion of the streams over for now. We’ll try to pick it up again next week, guys. We’ll see how far back we are and then figure out how long it will take to fix things,” he says, more to the viewers than to his co-Mianitees. “How about some mini-games?”


	14. Halloween Paintings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silv looks up as the door is opened in front of him. Inside is a small group of children and a young woman. The woman has her dark hair tied up in a messy ponytail that looks like she just recently hurried to put it up. She has an apron on over her shirt and dress-pants, and is passing out paint brushes to the children, who all look no older than six. Silv silently takes in the rest of the colorful room, noting to himself that it looks like a daycare more than it does a kindergarten class. In one corner of the room is what’s probably supposed to be an igloo made out of milk and juice jugs. In another corner are sleeping mats that are probably for naptime, and in the center of the room is a moderately-large purple and green rug that’s probably for group activities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> None

“And here’s the class you’ll be assisting in.”

 

Silv looks up as the door is opened in front of him. Inside is a small group of children and a young woman. The woman has her dark hair tied up in a messy ponytail that looks like she just recently hurried to put it up. She has an apron on over her shirt and dress-pants, and is passing out paint brushes to the children, who all look no older than six. Silv silently takes in the rest of the colorful room, noting to himself that it looks like a daycare more than it does a kindergarten class. In one corner of the room is what’s probably supposed to be an igloo made out of milk and juice jugs. In another corner are sleeping mats that are probably for naptime, and in the center of the room is a moderately-large purple and green rug that’s probably for group activities.

 

“Ms. Polaris,” the woman next to Silv calls in a sing-song voice, “your teaching-assistant has arrived.”

 

“Oh!” Polaris smiles in his direction, handing the last paint brush to a little girl with dark hair. “Here you go, Umbra. Okay, kids, start painting – and remember to share your paints with your buddy. I’m going to go see Mrs. Reynolds and the student teacher, okay?”

 

“Okay, Ms. Polaris,” the children reply in unison.

 

Polaris giggles and then walks over to him. Silv notices that she has a sort of lightness in her body posture and a bit of a skip in her step. She must really like her job. He can guess why. It must be fun to be around a bunch of kids and to watch them learn how things work. He’s always heard that working with kids would be fun, so that’s why he decided to try it.

 

She offers her hand out to him. “Hi. I’m Polaris Night, or Ms. Polaris, or just Polaris. Doesn’t really matter to me about the semantics,” she greets. “It’s _so_ nice to have a bit of help. They’re not bad kids, but they’re a handful sometimes.”

 

Silv glances briefly over at Mrs. Reynolds, but the kind secretary is leaving he and Polaris alone now in favor of returning to her job. He turns back to Polaris and offers her a polite smile, shaking her hand. “Silv. No, it’s not short for Sylvester or anything. It’s uh… just a nickname my older brother gave me. It kind of became my name, so I don’t really reply to my real name, and…”

 

She shakes her head. “It’s alright, Silv. So, what should the kids call you?”

 

“Anything, I guess,” he answers.

 

She nods and walks over to the kids, gesturing for him to follow. When they stop in front of the tables where the children are painting, all of the kids curiously glance up, as if anticipating their teacher’s words. He counts the number of kids in the room – eight. Two little girls, one with dark hair and the other with red hair, are sitting in the front; two boys with dark hair are sitting across from them at another table; one girl and one boy, with similar features, are sitting at the table behind the two boys; and one lone little girl is sitting behind the two girls. The redhead seems to be the oldest, and then the girl sitting next to him and the two boys across from them are the next oldest. The boy and girl behind the boys seem to be the middle children, and two little girls sitting in the back. One of the little girls has bleach-blonde hair, and the other is the dark-haired little girl Polaris had called Umbra.

 

“This is Silv. He’s going to be helping me out for a little while,” she introduces, gesturing to him. He waves a bit, and a few of the children wave back.

 

“Let’s go around the room and introduce ourselves to Silv, and then we can finish our Halloween paintings so they can dry,” Polaris directs kindly, “Eris, why don’t you start? Maybe you can tell Silv what you’re painting, too!”

 

The redhead nods. “Okay! Hi, Silv! I’m Eris. I’m six,” she greets, giving a wide smile. “I’m painting a ghost! Boo!”

 

The little girl next to Eris giggles. “I’m Kaida! Ms. Polaris is my mommy. And them two—” She gestures to the boys sitting across from her. “—are my brothers. I’m painting a dragon, ‘cause dragons are cool and Mommy likes dragons! Roar!”

 

Silv turns his gaze in Polaris’ direction. She looks young to be a mother. Maybe she adopted the triplets? He brushes off his curiosity, deciding it would be rude to ask, and turns his attention over to the kids again.

 

“I’m Draco. Kaida’s my sister, even though girls are gross!” Draco sticks out his tongue and makes a face. Kaida and Eris both respond by sticking their tongues right back out at him. He laughs. “I’m painting a dragon, too.”

 

The other boy rolls his eyes. “I’m Drac… Drak… Dra…” He looks at him mother imploringly.

 

“Drakon,” Polaris supplies before smiling at her son, “sweetie, it’s okay if you want to say Drake. If it’s easier, that’s okay.”

 

Silv nods, deciding to give the kid a small confidence boost. “I don’t use my real name, Drakon. My brother’s called me ‘Silv’ ever since I was your age, so I just respond to it better – and it’s easier to say and spell than my name really is. You want me to call you Drake?”

 

Drakon nods. “I’m… Drake. My siblings and I are five. Draco is a troublemaker and Kaida likes to make trouble happen,” he says, “I’m painting a wizard.”

 

“Good to know,” Silv offers, “thanks for the heads-up.”

 

“Mara, you next,” Polaris directs, smiling. Silv can feel how proud she is of her babies for successfully introducing themselves, and maybe she’s a little proud of him for handling Drake’s situation so well.

 

“I’m Mara,” the dark-haired little girl behind Draco greets. “My brother and I are almost five. I’m painting a spooky, scary skeleton ‘cause Daddy says we need more Halloween decorations around the house. Mommy doesn’t get spooked by them, though, ‘cause mommies are awesome and not afraid of anything. Right, Thanatos?”

 

Her brother, Thanatos, nods in agreement. “I’m Thanatos. I’m painting a wolf, ‘cause Mom likes wolves, and a bat ‘cause bats are cool.”

 

The girl behind Eris speaks up, “I’m Hela. I’m six. I’m painting a ghost, too.”

 

The last little girl shyly looks down at her piece of paper and paints, as if doing so will keep her from being noticed. Polaris keeps quiet for a moment, before she opens her mouth to say something. Before she can speak, though, Kaida has gotten up from her chair and walks over to little Umbra, who must just barely be four.

 

“What’sa matter, Um?” Kaida asks in a voice that is trying so hard to be quiet, but falling just as hard. It sounds like she’s whispering loudly.

 

“I-I don’t… I don’t like strangers,” Umbra whispers back, albeit at a volume more properly like a whisper.

 

“That’s okay,” Kaida promises. “Silv seems nice. Besides, if you don’t say ‘hi,’ then he’ll always be a stranger, right?”

 

Umbra looks nervously over at Kaida, tossing a brief, fearful glance in Silv’s direction. “U-Um… I-I don’t… want to…”

 

Kaida grins at her. “How ‘bout you try, and if you can’t, I’ll finish it for you? I’ll even stand _right here_ while you do, so if he tries to be mean, I can scare him off! Nobody’s mean to my Um.”

 

Umbra glances at the little girl next to her again before nodding reluctantly. “O-Okay, Kai,” she agrees, turning her attention to Silv. Silv keeps a patient look on his face while Umbra talks, “I-I’m Umbra. M-My mommy and daddy just… just took jobs in this city, a-and I’m four. K-Kaida’s my best friend.”

 

Silv nods and offers her a patient, polite smile. “Will you tell me what you’re painting, Umbra?”

 

“I’m painting a… a pumpkin, ‘c-cause Kaida thinks they’re cute…” She answers shyly.

 

Kaida grins and wanders back to her seat, turning to beam proudly in Umbra’s direction. Umbra smiles back at her. Next to Silv, Polaris is giving Umbra and Kaida a soft smile. She claps her hands together, earning everyone’s attention.

 

“Alright, let’s finish up those paintings so we can get cleaned up and get them drying, and then it’s going to be naptime and then snack time,” Polaris announces. “Silv, why don’t you see if anyone needs more of any color? The oranges and blacks usually are the first that the kiddos need this time of year. I’m going to find a good spot to lay all of the paintings when they’re done.”

 

Silv nods and starts walking around. The children are, by no means, experts in the field of drawing, but some of them do show potential to improve – just like how, with Kaida’s help, it seems like Umbra’s confidence and bravery will improve. He finds himself excited to see the kids as they grow, and can’t wait for the rest of the day.


	15. Alteration Spells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She blinks at the sight in front of her. Standing in the living room, looking down at Thanatos, is a young woman with jet-black hair and dark blue eyes. Her face is red with either embarrassment or anger, but Thanatos doesn’t seem to mind. The little boy is giggling, hands covering his mouth in a childish display of trying to hide his laughter. Atop Thanatos’ lap is the magic book Lara has kept with her for centuries – the same one she’s kept up on a high shelf because it’s far too dangerous for the children to play with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Genderbend (male to female)  
> Mentions of same-sex pairings

Lara sighs in relief. She’s finally gotten Mara off to bed after the little girl had woken up with the flu. It seemed that she was wrong in her belief that Guardians couldn’t fall ill of human diseases – but at least it was better than certain ailments that she and Jay suffered from yearly, that the twins will inevitably inherit thanks to the make-up of their wings. Mara had been miserable thanks to her fever, and hard to keep asleep due to the fever-induced nightmares – but it seems Lara has finally managed to be successful. With Thanatos and Jay in the living room, playing with a toy train or something, the bedroom is quiet enough and Lara might, possibly be able to sneak up to the Aether to see Litho and—

 

“ _Ah!_ ”

 

Or not.

 

Lara frowns and walks out of the bedroom. “Jay, I swear, if someone’s here,” she growls, “I just got Mara back to sleep. Tell your guest she can be too… noi… sy…”

 

She blinks at the sight in front of her. Standing in the living room, looking down at Thanatos, is a young woman with jet-black hair and dark blue eyes. Her face is red with either embarrassment or anger, but Thanatos doesn’t seem to mind. The little boy is giggling, hands covering his mouth in a childish display of trying to hide his laughter. Atop Thanatos’ lap is the magic book Lara has kept with her for centuries – the same one she’s kept up on a high shelf because it’s far too dangerous for the children to play with.

 

“I’m… sorry. Who are you?” Lara asks, though she has half-the-mind to assume she might know.

 

“It’s _me_ ,” the woman protests, “Jay! You know, your handsome, always-right, awesome boyfriend? The father of your children? Well… I guess—ugh! Lara! Make him turn me back!”

 

“Shh! If you wake Mara, there’s going to be hell to pay,” Lara warns. “Male or female, you’re still going to be sleeping in the Void if you wake her up. She’s sick, Jay. She needs her rest right now.”

 

Jay lets out a frustrated noise and crosses his – her – arms under her chest. Lara finds her eyes wandering a bit before she catches herself and lets out a tiny yelp of embarrassment, looking away as her cheeks turn red. Jay isn’t the most well-endowed as a woman, but Lara feels mildly small in comparison and covers her own chest self-consciously.

 

“My eyes are up here,” Jay teases, clearly knowing where Lara’s gaze had been.

 

“I-I… sorry,” she offers hesitantly. “I just… I don’t know. There’s no excuse for that.”

 

“Nah. I’m good with it,” he jokes. “It’s not like I don’t look at you.”

 

“That’s not an excuse for my behavior,” she counters. “It’s impolite to stare at anyone, or ogle at them.”

 

Jay shrugs. “I just didn’t know you swung both ways.”

 

Lara looks over at him, lowering her arms from her chest. “What a crude way to put it.”

 

“Well, it’s true. Or do you just like to peek?”

 

“I… suppose I ‘swing both ways,’ if that’s how you’re going to say it. But I don’t… ugh, this is… why do you have to make everything complicated sometimes?”

 

“What’s so complicated about it? You like dudes, and you like chicks. Seems pretty simple to me,” he says. “Lara, I don’t mind that you do. I wasn’t trying to be insult—”

 

Lara sighs. “I know you weren’t, Jay, that’s not it at all,” she interrupts, “it’s just… It’s not so much that I… ‘swing both ways.’ I’m very much a ‘love once’ kind of person. Whomever they are, I’d love them. Male, female – anyone. It doesn’t… matter to me about the semantics of the situation.”

 

Jay smiles. “You know, I thought so. Pretty sure Capsize didn’t put anything in your grog last month, but you two…” He clicked his tongue. “I was a little jealous seeing another person kissing you, and you kissing them back.”

 

Her cheeks turned red. “I-I assure you, I was only kissing Capsize back for a moment to pacify her. Redbeard asked me to help get her to bed, and she refused to allow me to leave without giving her a kiss goodnight. She’s more interested in Jordan, either way.”

 

Jay moves over to her and gives her another flirtatious smile. “Yeah, I know.”

 

“You horrible person, you…” Lara mutters jokingly, “you do love to see me flustered, don’t you?”

 

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” he admits.

 

She hums a bit and then turns to look down at Thanatos, who’s now watching his parents with a curious glance. From the sound of things, Mara is still fast asleep in the other room. Jay, meanwhile, is running fingers through Lara’s hair in a way that perhaps shouldn’t be as familiar as it is since the only person to do it is Jay, just not in the same form as he is currently. She leans into the touch instinctively, but keeps her attention focused on her son.

 

“Thanatos, can you show Mommy which spell you did?” She asks.

 

Thanatos pouts, likely upset that his trick has to come to such an abrupt end. He teleports into Lara’s arms with the book and points. One of the passages highlight in gold.

 

_Alteration Spell – Body:_

_This spell allows the caster to alter the physical appearance of the body of any target. The spell can be used to grow extra limbs, remove extra limbs, or even alter the bodies shape entirely. Most who cast spells of this sort use it as a temporary ‘gift’ to themselves or another target, or to curse the target to be in a specific shape for as long as the spell is active. Ways to reverse the spell are unknown, though it is believed that the spell can be gotten rid of through a passage of time equivalent to the amount of things being altered. An entire body change can take up to a week to reverse itself, though it has been known to be variant for reasons outside of explanation._

“Oh…” Lara grimaces. “Uh… Jay? The only known reversal to the spell is time.”

 

“Thanatos,” Jay groans.

 

“Daddy,” Thanatos giggles in the same, groaning tone.

 

Lara waits a moment before saying, “You know, I did warn you that he would steal your throne of pranks, and not to tempt him.”

 

“I thought you were kidding,” Jay mumbles.

 

“No, I wasn’t,” she tells him, before turning and walking into the bedroom. “Mara is asleep in our bed. Thanatos, you’re going to go to bed, too. It’s too late for you to be up. Mommy will read you a bedtime story, and then it’s bedtime.”

 

“Aww… but Daddy…” Thanatos whines.

 

Lara kisses the top of her son’s head. “Mommy will deal with Daddy in a minute,” she promises. “But first, bedtime for you. And for that book.”

 

Once she gets Thanatos off to bed, she leaves the bedroom with the magic book in her hands. She sets the book up on a high shelf. She’ll have to find somewhere better to put it now that she knows the children can get to it, but for now, it’s safe. She looks over at the couch and notices that Jay is laying down, already fast asleep as well.

 

She sighs. “What am I going to do with these three?”


	16. Halloween Treats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pair of chocolate-brown eyes stare up at him while he bakes and he glances back down at them, intent on watching them until the little figure toddles off to find her mommy. Eris is one-year-old and just barely learning how her feet work – but she’s old enough to smell things quite well and to be curious about what Dianite is doing in the kitchen while Jinx is busy and Jace is helping Tom with some revenge-prank against Jay. Jinx is probably in the library, skimming through books about the Overworld, or trying to find a way to create a rose garden in the Nether without needing water to keep her beloved flowers alive. Eris normally likes to be with Jinx when it comes to books or flowers, but it seems Dianite’s baking attempts haven’t gone unnoticed by his little princess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> None  
> (But no one can tell me, since Dianite is the God of the Nether, that he can't bake/cook.)

A pair of chocolate-brown eyes stare up at him while he bakes and he glances back down at them, intent on watching them until the little figure toddles off to find her mommy. Eris is one-year-old and just barely learning how her feet work – but she’s old enough to smell things quite well and to be curious about what Dianite is doing in the kitchen while Jinx is busy and Jace is helping Tom with some revenge-prank against Jay. Jinx is probably in the library, skimming through books about the Overworld, or trying to find a way to create a rose garden in the Nether without needing water to keep her beloved flowers alive. Eris normally likes to be with Jinx when it comes to books or flowers, but it seems Dianite’s baking attempts haven’t gone unnoticed by his little princess.

 

“Da?” She calls curiously, shifting her hands away from the counter and over to his clothes as she tries to steady her wobbly footing. When she tries to get up on her tip-toes, she nearly falls. Dianite lifts his leg, sweeping it out and around his child’s waist to catch her before she can become too unbalanced, which only receives a giggle from the little girl who’s still too little to understand well-enough that falling will hurt.

 

“Good morning, princess,” Dianite greets, carefully moving his leg away once he knows she’s steady again. “Where’s Mommy?”

 

Eris babbles up at him, too young to form the words that he knows her mind is already capable of thinking. Despite immortal children aging mentally at a faster rate, the physical catch-up is mostly normal – at least so young. As she gets older, Eris’ mind and body will age together, at a faster rate, until her aging is arrested when she’s in her late-teens or early-twenties. Eris, thus far, is looking to be the only child to be born of pure godly status, and Dianite intends to treat the little goddess as just what she is – a goddess, just like her wonderful, beautiful mother.

 

One of the words Eris does manage to say very clearly is “Bus,” and Dianite knows that means ‘Abyss.’ Abyss, the Higher God of Death himself, has come to visit Jinx, as he’s been doing quite frequently over the last year-and-a-half. At first, Dianite had noticed that Jinx had felt rather frustrated and disgruntled with the older Higher God, but she seems to have calmed enough that Abyss’ company was almost therapeutic for her. Dianite doesn’t really share her comfort, but he’s learned there are only so many things Jinx finds comfort in anymore. She’d been locked up for eons; everything is different to her now, and unlike Dianite, she hadn’t gotten the chance to acclimate to the passage of time that caused such change. Abyss shares that feeling, and he seems relatively harmless about being around Jinx and Eris, so Dianite tolerates his presence.

 

“Abyss is here?” He repeats, gaining happy nonsense from his daughter, who’s still watching him with awe-filled, wide eyes. “Strange. I didn’t sense him. Perhaps he’s masking himself, or your mother is hiding him… Mommy is a silly woman, Eris.”

 

Dianite turns back to his baking and listens as Eris continues to ‘talk’ to him. Most of her words are nonsense, but a few of them are real. Mostly it’s “Da,” and “Mm,” and “Br.” Jace is “Br” to Eris, because she’s found that his name is hard to say and Jace lets her call him whatever she wants. Jace has taken right to her, treating Eris like a younger sibling, and dotes on her just as much as Dianite and Jinx do. He’s always finding things to bring to her since, right now, the Overworld is too dangerous for her to visit. In the Nether, none of the mobs will harm her, but in the Overworld, creepers and the like won’t have the same reservation.

 

As Dianite bends to put the platter of decorated cookies, he carefully puts himself between the oven and Eris. He feels two small, chubby arms wrap around his leg as best they can as she tries to stay on her feet, while also trying to glance around him to peek at the fire in the oven, and the orange-and-black cookies on the platter. He smiles a bit, closing the oven, and then scoops his daughter up, shifting her onto his hip. He reaches over with his other hand a picks up a spoon and the bowl full of left-over frosting.

 

“Don’t tell Jace,” he says as he carries both the bowl and Eris over to the table. He places the bowl and spoon on the table, and then sits in one of the chairs with Eris in his lap. The child hasn’t taken her eyes off of the frosting. She’s staring at the sweet stuff like it’s some new delicacy that Dianite’s going to present her with.

 

Dianite dips his finger into the frosting and then offers his finger to Eris, curious to see how she’ll react. She takes his finger in her hands and pops it into her mouth. Dianite knows Jinx doesn’t care for sweets. She always complains when he makes frosting because “Dia, it’s too sweet…” and then will only eat one or two of the cookies he bakes. Jace, meanwhile, can’t be trusted with frosting or cookies because he tends to overindulge – and dealing with a Netherian Guardian hyped up on a sugar-rush isn’t something Dianite feels inclined to deal with again for another few centuries at least. The last time Jace had been given anything remotely sugary, there had been plenty of cooked chicken and feathers to go around once Dianite had caught all of the chickens Jace had let loose in the temple. There had to have been at least thirty of them.

 

“Well?” Dianite asks, looking down at his daughter.

 

Eris lets him take his finger out of her mouth, and then she reaches for the bowl. Clearly, she knows exactly where the orange mess of sugar came from, and she seems to approve of it. Dianite chuckles and grabs the spoon, scooping up a bit of the frosting and then handing the spoon off to his daughter. Clumsily, the one-year-old manages to plop it into her mouth, humming happily.

 

“You can’t have too much,” Dianite tells her, “your mother will be upset if your stomach hurts because I’ve given you frosting. Your mother is still learning what the Mianitees consider holidays to be, though, so she might not mind… too much.”

 

While Eris continues to enjoy the spoon of frosting, Dianite wipes off his finger from the leftover stickiness of frosting and saliva, and then carefully runs his hands over his daughter’s hair. He can feel her two, tiny horns beginning to form atop her head. They’re barely noticeable, really, but he’s happy that they’re there. It’s a lost opportunity if something doesn’t have horns. Growing them, for Eris, seems to be like her baby teeth coming in. They don’t necessarily seem to be hurting her, but there are bad days where she cries because they bother her. It’s nothing a quick visit from Lara can’t help with, or Jinx brewing a healing potion can’t fix. Those bad days are few and far-between, though.

 

“Lara and Jay will be visiting in a few days,” he says to himself. The two have been visiting more often, just like Abyss.

 

As much as Dianite still loathes Jay, he’s come to accept the void-born’s presence. Jinx had been insistent upon making Dianite offer up his blessing to the brat to allow Jay to consider himself the new God of the Void, and with how kind Jay has proven to be to Eris, it had been hard to deny his goddess her single request. He can also see how Jay has affected Mianite’s Guardian, and how Lara seems more relaxed with Jay at her side than she’s been in centuries of her existence. Jay is clearly good for her, and as long as Lara’s around, Jay doesn’t attempt to be clever around Dianite. Jinx and Eris also seem to help prevent any instigation between the Netherian god and the void-born Guardian.

 

“Rara?” Eris asks, mouth still closed around the spoon. “Ay?”

 

Dianite nods. “And Polaris and QuickSilver. They’re all coming for the spooky party that your mother’s planning.”

 

“Rawr,” Eris shouts, taking the spoon quickly out of her mouth and giggling.

 

Eris deeply enjoys the company of the Enderdragons, and they seem to like her presence as well. On more than one occasion, Dianite and Jinx have had to steal their daughter back from Polaris before the dragoness could make off with her. It always leads Dianite to question why Polaris and QuickSilver don’t have a flock of their own. Jinx has quizzed QuickSilver once, but the dragon had stated that they were trying. After that, Jinx never dared to ask again.

 

Dianite gives her a second spoonful of frosting and then sits her down on the table, picking up the bowl to hide it where Jace won’t be able to find it. Eris makes upset noises, likely not wanting to see the new treat she’s discovered being put away so soon, but Dianite forces himself not to give in to the desire to appease her. After all, an angry Goddess of Chaos is something to fear far more than his little daughter’s temporary upset that her daddy won’t give her any more of the sweets. She can have a cookie or two later, when they finish. For now, giving her any more of the sugary-sweet frosting will likely upset her belly, and that will only end poorly for everyone involved.

 

“So, when they’re done, do you want a spider cookie, a creeper cookie, or a zombie cookie?” He asks, sitting back down once the bowl is successfully hidden. He holds up a finger when he says each, and then repeats the list and finger motions again.

 

Eris takes the spoon out of her mouth and Dianite takes it, setting it aside to be washed later. She looks at the three fingers he has up and then points at his pointer finger, signifying the spider cookie. “Dis one.”

 

“The spider one?” He asks.

 

She nods. “Spire one.”

 

He nods and she kisses him. Dianite chuckles a bit and scoops her up, carrying her toward his and Jinx’s room. The bedroom is only a short walk away from the kitchen, but as per typical when Abyss visits, the door is closed and the room is sealed. Dianite knocks on the door.

 

“Jinx, the cookies will be done in a little while,” he calls. “Is Abyss staying for snacks?”

 

“Of course I am, boy,” Abyss answers, feigning offense while laughing a bit. Likely, Abyss doesn’t understand Halloween, either, but he probably likes the idea of it. Abyss seems to be a bit of a wildcard in the aspect of his humor. “I could go for a sugary-snack. It’s only been eons.”

 

“Bus,” Eris cheers.

 

“Girlie,” Abyss cheers back.

 

“Abyss, what did I say about that word? Need I ban it and you from this temple?” Jinx groans. “Really now, my child has a name – and her name is lovely, I’ll remind you.”

 

“Yes, yes, Eris is a pretty name for a pretty girl with pretty parents, are you satisfied?” The Higher God teases.

 

“Absolutely. Her father’s gorgeous. Have you seen him?” Jinx jokes back.

 

“He’s not really my taste,” Abyss says, sounding like he’s nearly doubled-over with laughter. “Ah! You’re going to hurt an old man’s ribs making me laugh this much, Jinx.”

 

Jinx snickers. “Aw, well… your loss, then.”

 

Dianite chuckles and leaves the two of them be. Jinx has been trying to re-perfect her illusionary skills, and Abyss has thus far proven to be a willing target to try and actively break through them. Jace had tried, but Jinx’s status as a goddess had put him at an already-existing disadvantage that had proven to make him a useless test subject. Dianite had offered, but she’d refused to try any illusions against him – and the other gods weren’t offering their services. Abyss had shown up one morning and it had been said to Dianite that Abyss would be helping her, no more or less. For Abyss, Jinx had said, it was an opportunity to try and learn her energy, and for Jinx, it was a training exercise.

 

Dianite sits down with Eris at the table and waits. The cookies will be done soon, and then he can pull the frosting back out and frost them, copying the design he made into the batter with a layer of sweet frosting.

 

It will just take another twenty-or-so minutes.


	17. Midnight Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara is exhausted, but Jace and Jay seem to be boldly insistent, despite Jace also being a morning-person and by no means ready to stay up all night for some silly ‘ritual’ that he and Jay found online after a few hours of pretending to be researching for their project. It’s nearly Halloween, so the guys decided to do something “fun” and look up spooky games to play. According to Jace, this ‘ritual’ is supposed to be done without falling asleep or you’ll risk dying. Lara had only agreed, begrudgingly, to be involved when Jace had brought death into the equation. She can’t very well tell her father that her cousin and their best friend decided to go off and get killed, can she? That would be hard to explain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> The Midnight Game/The Midnight Man (don't do it)  
> Hastily written one-shot is hastily written  
> One account of swearing

Lara is exhausted, but Jace and Jay seem to be boldly insistent, despite Jace also being a morning-person and by no means ready to stay up all night for some silly ‘ritual’ that he and Jay found online after a few hours of pretending to be researching for their project. It’s nearly Halloween, so the guys decided to do something “fun” and look up spooky games to play. According to Jace, this ‘ritual’ is supposed to be done without falling asleep or you’ll risk dying. Lara had only agreed, begrudgingly, to be involved when Jace had brought death into the equation. She can’t very well tell her father that her cousin and their best friend decided to go off and get killed, can she? That would be hard to explain.

 

So here she is, ten minutes before midnight, helping to set up for their stupid game. She’s pulled candles down from a cabinet and paper from the reams near the printer. Jay has gone through the house and shut off all of the lights. Jace has set the lighter he stole from his dad and a little sewing needle from his mother’s sewing kit on the table, ready for the night’s activities. Lara’s grabbing the salt, too, “just in case,” as Jace says.

 

Lara yawns into her hand and looks around as Jay reenters the kitchen. “So, we just prick our fingers and write out names with a pen on the paper?” She checks.

 

Jay nods, stepping forward and writing his name on one piece. He takes the sewing needle and pricks his finger, allowing a drop of blood to fall onto the page, and then sticks the finger in his mouth while Jace grimaces. Being the person he is, Jay snickers at Jace’s discomfort.

 

Lara copies his actions. She writes her name on a different page and then dots the page with a drop of blood. After she finishes her page, she glances over and notices that Jace has reluctantly written his name on a separate page, but he holds his hands to his chest.

 

“You can’t play if you don’t do this,” Jay taunts jokingly.

 

“I don’t like blood, asshole, shut up,” Jace growls.

 

Lara holds out her hand. “Give me your finger and close your eyes. I’ll do it for you,” she directs.

 

When Jace begrudgingly complies, she pricks his finger and drips a bit of blood on his page, and then takes her piece of paper and a candle out to the front door. Jay and Jace follow behind her. Lara hears the kitchen light click off, signaling that the last real light in the house has been turned off. She ignores it and sets her paper and candle down on the ground outside, lighting the candle with Jace’s father’s lighter. Jay and Jace copy her, and then together they knock twenty-two times on the door. The last knock sounds as the clock rings off to signal midnight. All three of them open the door, blow out the candles, and then close the door. As soon as the door is closed, they take turns rushing to relight the candles.

 

“See? No issues. Whatsoever,” Lara says.

 

“Don’t get cocky,” Jace retorts.

 

“The rules said not to provoke, and not to stand still,” Jay reminds, “let’s start walking. We only have to do this until three-thirty-three.”

 

When Jay starts walking, Lara and Jace follow. “I know you’re tired, Lara,” Jay says after a moment of quiet, “but we can’t fall asleep, either. We’ll just have to keep you awake.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, okay, whatever,” Lara mumbles, looking down at her candle. “What do we even do until then? How will we know if this ‘Midnight Man’ is near us?”

 

“The website said we’d feel cold, or we’d see things, or we’d hear things,” Jace answers, “if the candle goes out, we have to relight it in ten seconds or get into a salt circle.”

 

“Seems like a lot of rules for a deadly ritual,” she notes aloud.

 

Jay nods, walking through the kitchen with Lara and Jace still behind him. “Yeah. If it wants to kill people, why play with them? Just do it.”

 

As soon as he finishes speaking, it’s as though a breeze passes through the room, blowing out all three of their candles. Jace yelps as the room is thrown into darkness, and Jay, who last held the lighter, fumbles with it to get it to work. Lara counts aloud the seconds it takes them, considering silently reaching for the salt. It takes three seconds for Jay to get the lighter working; one second for him to light his candle; one second for Lara to light hers; and three seconds for Jace’s shaking hands to light his. Eight seconds pass before a halo of light surrounds them again, and before they can hurriedly walk out of the room, Lara snatches the salt off of the table to carry around with them.

 

“Okay, so no tempting it, right,” Jay says when they enter the hall leading to the living room.

 

They walk around and chat absently about random things for another whole hour, occasionally stopping to relight their candles before moving on. With every step they take, Lara feels more and more exhausted. She yawns once and manages to blow out her candle, causing her to stop to relight it before moving on. Jace elbows her and nearly knocks her into Jay, and Jay pinches her, nearly causing her to drop the candle and light the entire house on fire. Eventually, she starts taking the lead to keep herself awake.

 

As her mind lulls, even as her legs pull her from room to room, she starts to hear tiny whispers. She brushes it off as just the boys playing a trick. She’s too tired to focus on them, and it’s not unlike them to try – and fail – to spook her. With Halloween so close, she knows that Jay has made it his personal mission to scare her, and maybe that’s the whole point of this game. Who knows if it’s even real or not. Maybe they just made it up in an effort to scare her sleep-deprived mind.

 

“Shut up,” she mutters, catching sight of Jay’s watch out of the corner of her eye.

 

_1:21am_

They keep walking, and Lara swears they’ve been through the kitchen three times by now. Her feet hurt and every time they have to stop to relight the candles, they seem to make little progress speeding the process up. Jay and Jace start singing to pass the time, but Lara doesn’t think they have any sense of tune. Jace is clearly tone-deaf, much to Jay’s amusement, and Jay’s music choice is questionable. All that Lara learns from it is that neither of them should quit their day jobs.

 

She glances at Jay’s watch again.

 

_2:45am_

“Almost there,” she says.

 

The second the words leave her mouth, the candles all go out. While Jace flicks the lighter again and again – and Lara counts the seconds – it’s as though the whispers start to creep in again. Quiet voices beckoning and urging. The temperature in the room slowly starts to drop until Lara can feel the hair on the back of her neck beginning to stand. Next to her, Jay is demanding to know why Jace hasn’t gotten the lighter to work, and Jace is quietly whimpering.

 

“I-I think it’s out of fuel,” he admits nervously, “Dad… Dad must not have refilled it.”

 

“Lara, the salt,” Jay directs. Lara hands it to him and he pours the bag out around all three of them. “No one leave the circle. No matter what you see or hear, no one leaves it. Leave it and you’re dead.”

 

Lara sits down in the wide circle, covering a yawn. Jace sits down next to her, pulling his legs up to his chest, and Jay sits down behind Lara, wrapping his arms around her. “No falling asleep,” Jay reminds.

 

“Sounds like someone is going to have to keep me awake, then,” she reminds drowsily. Jay nods and sets his chin on her shoulder, occasionally pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. The motion is enough to cause her to stir every time his lips press against her throat, and she leans back against him more after a few minutes.

 

“Get a room,” Jace mumbles.

 

“We can’t,” Jay teases. “We’re all trapped in the circle now. It’s been more than ten seconds.”

 

Jace huffs. “It’s cold.”

 

“That means he’s found us,” he points out, “we definitely need to stay here and—” He cuts himself off to press another kiss against Lara’s neck, and then continues, “—and not get out of the salt circle, or break it for anything.” Jace nods and Lara hums in acknowledgement.

 

Truth be told, Lara doesn’t know what happens between then and the end of the ‘ritual.’ She hears Jace whimpering after a few minutes and muttering to herself, but she also continues to hear the hushed whispers trying to coax them all out of their safety. Every few moments, Jay pulls her closer, as if she’s going to leave his protective embrace. Maybe she does try – she doesn’t know.

 

All she knows is that, at some point, Jace gets up and leaves the circle. Jay doesn’t stop him and instead, he lifts her up and begins to carry her somewhere, murmuring that the game is over and they’ve won. Lara is relieved, but not because the game is over. She’s relieved because it means she can sleep – at least until the sun rises higher into the sky.


	18. Statue Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But… that was years ago. You’ve no idea how many years, exactly, but you know it’s been years. Seasons have come and gone, and the witch has died, leaving her garden barren and dying. Even now, in the middle of summer, the ground is overgrown. Around you, though, it’s dead. Foliage and mosses have grown onto the stone encompassing your limbs. You don’t feel older, despite the passage of time, so you wonder if your prison has arrested the affect time has on you. Your siblings, however, have likely not been so lucky. You were eighteen the year you got imprisoned. Are you still eighteen, or are you older now? You don’t know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Curses  
> Mentions of immortality

How did you wind up like this again?

 

Oh, right. Your brother screwed with a witch and you, the loving sister you are, took the fall for his error. You made sure he was out of her hut before she could return to find half of her potions broken, her cauldron spilled, and a good portion of her puppet-things soaked in a liquid that smelt of sulphur. One of you two had to get back to your little sister, and being the oldest and the most responsible, you’d wanted it to be him. You couldn’t allow your kid brother – who’s really not a kid anymore – to get the brunt of some mean witch’s anger just because he accidentally caused some trouble since curiosity got the better of him.

 

In her anger, the witch hadn’t let you explain yourself – or, rather, explain your brother, who was hopefully long gone by now. She’d taken one brief look around her home and then turned to you, hand raised, hex already pouring from her lips as you tried desperately to protest and reach out to stop her.

 

“No, wait, please, I—!”

 

You couldn’t finish. It had been like something had sealed your throat shut, and you couldn’t move to protest because your limbs were turned into solid stone. The witch had circled you, saying strings of curses at the mess ‘you’ had made. You wanted to scream then because, despite your static, stone-encased state, you could still think and hear. You were conscious in your prison, as you still are.

 

“Perhaps you’ll make a pretty statue at least,” she grumbled, “a beautiful decoration for my garden. But that’s all pests like you are worth like this – aside from making a pretty penny by selling you off now.”

 

At some point after cleaning her hut of the mess Jace had made, she had managed to devise a spell to teleport you out to her garden. To your surprise, the garden was well-tended and absolutely gorgeous. Clearly, the witch cared for her plants dearly. They looked recently weeded and watered, tended to with the utmost love in the same way Jace baked.

 

But… that was years ago. You’ve no idea how many years, exactly, but you know it’s been years. Seasons have come and gone, and the witch has died, leaving her garden barren and dying. Even now, in the middle of summer, the ground is overgrown. Around you, though, it’s dead. Foliage and mosses have grown onto the stone encompassing your limbs. You don’t feel older, despite the passage of time, so you wonder if your prison has arrested the affect time has on you. Your siblings, however, have likely not been so lucky. You were eighteen the year you got imprisoned. Are you still eighteen, or are you older now? You don’t know.

 

The world around you is quiet and calm, save for birds or other animals rustling through the overgrown grass. You can’t turn your gaze away from the river you’ve been stood in front of for so long. Trees have grown where saplings stood, and their branches hang over the water, dropping leaves and blossoms and seeds into the river below them. In different circumstances, it would be a beautiful sight – but now, you don’t think so.

 

You hear something move nearby and want to turn to look. The noise is rougher than an animal, but gentle enough to signify that whatever is making the noise isn’t in danger or in pain. It’s just passing through. Likely, it will pass by you and the garden in a moment, or perhaps it will remain sedentary forever, like you. Doubtful.

 

“Wow… she never told me this was here,” you hear a young man say. A figure suddenly circles you and you find yourself looking at dark hair and blue eyes. Tan skin. A muscular, yet not intimidating, build. He’s looking at you with awe-filled eyes, like you’re the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

 

He gives a light-hearted laugh. “How long have you been here? Jeez. You’re covered in plants and stuff,” he continues, likely trusting you can’t understand him. Of course, you can’t reply even though you’d like to, so he adds, “I wonder who made you, though. I’m not a sculptor or anything, but you were finely made. I can see why Mom put you out here.”

 

 _She was your mother?_ You wonder, _how old are you? Who are you? How many years have I been trapped here, and what happened to Jace and Syrreth?_

His hands run over your face. If you could, you would flush at his touch just for being skin-to-skin. Jace used to call you a prude for being so conservative and becoming flustered anytime a man would touch you. Syrreth, even for someone so young, enjoyed the company of others and having her hair pet; Jace was addicted to the feeling of someone’s lips on his and hands on his waist, even if he didn’t seek it out. When he gained attention, he loved it. But you didn’t share their enjoyment of touch. To you, someone petting your hair was a sign of patronization; to you, someone putting their lips on yours was unwelcomed unless you openly stated you desired it, and the men who dared to be so forward would get red marks and scratches along their cheeks for overstepping the boundaries you put between them and you.

 

“Jay,” a female voice calls, giggles in the tone. Her voice is just a bit older than Jay’s – barely so, but you can hear the small twinge of age over the childish nature of the voice.

 

“Over here, Polly,” the young man, dubbed Jay, calls back. A smile is across his face.

 

You hear someone stepping through the tall grass and suddenly, standing before you, is a woman who looks unmistakably like Syrreth. Her eyes are the same dark color, and her hair is pitch-black, down to her waist. Her body is thin and tiny, and maybe – just maybe – she looks a bit sickly. Syrreth had always been prone to illness, due to having a weak heart. Is it possible that this woman is Syrreth’s child? If you could cry, you probably would be.

 

“Jace and I were looking for you,” the young woman says as another man rounds behind her, mumbling something about how she ran off on him and why she can’t do it again. “Oh, I’m fine, QuickSilver. It’s just a tiny cold.”

 

 _Jace?_ You echo. _Is… Is Jace still alive, or… is a child named after him?_

 

“You nearly passed out last night,” QuickSilver argues. “And this ‘cold’ has been bothering you for a month now. It’s time for you to put aside your fears and see a doctor, Polaris.”

 

Polaris waves her hand dismissively at QuickSilver before turning to face you with the same awe-filled eyes that Jay had shown you. Behind her, Jay and QuickSilver discuss Polaris’ poor health. You strain your ears in hopes to hear anything about Jace, but all that you hear is that Jace is a trickster – just like your brother had been – and he’s “kind of a jerk sometimes,” but that he’s taken to caring for his group of friends. He sounds so much like your brother, but time has passed and it’s likely that Jace, like Syrreth and the witch, are long dead.

 

Polaris looks at you for a moment longer and then wolf-whistles. “She’s a pretty lady, ain’t she, boys?” She teases before giggling, “I bet Jay has the hots for her, Silv!”

 

“H-Hey,” Jay protests, even as QuickSilver chuckles. Jay scowls jokingly before stomping off to inspect one of the trees. QuickSilver follows when Jay calls him over, and you’re left to think that QuickSilver must be a plants expert.

 

Polaris stays near you, though, and when she turns to look at you, her gaze is softer. “You didn’t think that witch really left us alone, did you, Sister?” She says, voice hushed and more familiar. Older than you recall, but familiar and serious. “She knew it wasn’t you. You were trying to be kind, and she was smart enough to know that it wasn’t your hands which caused her troubles. She cursed Jace and I with immortality when she found us – Jace because of what he’d done, and I because she believed it was cruel to leave a sibling to watch another die.”

 

You wish you could widen your eyes or hold her, but you can do nothing except inwardly scream and cry as she continues with a half-smirk, “It took her ten years to find us. Jace is probably older than you now. I’m nineteen and Jace is twenty-three. I’m probably older than you, too.”

 

 _Syrreth,_ you breathe to yourself.

 

“Jace kept his name, but I changed mine. I wanted to be something that Jace could lean on to give him hope, and…” Polaris – _Syrreth_ – gives a misty-eyed smile, “don’t people wish on stars, Sister? Isn’t that what you told me when I was still small? Polaris is the name of the North Star. I only hope I’m doing the name justice.”

 

She turns briefly and nods in the direction of Jay and QuickSilver. “Jay is the witch’s son. Jace and I haven’t told him who we are, but when we met him and he told us who he was, we made the connection. We befriended him immediately, hoping he would help us find you and break any spell you’re under,” she says, and then adds, “QuickSilver is his younger brother and an herbalist, and… also my fiancé. I’m sure you’re wondering about Jace, too, but no, he’s not found anyone. There were a couple of nice girls, but he turned them down. He always says his first priority is you, and his second is his own happiness.”

 

You want to sob. Your siblings have been through so much. Why didn’t they ever just give up on you? You’re certain that the townsfolk, over time, discouraged their hopes and proclaimed you to be dead. But your siblings – bless their innocent little hearts – have held onto belief for this long? You wonder if Polaris feels relieved to see you, to recognize you, or if this is more heartbreaking to her than to see a body or nothing at all.

 

 _Sy—Polaris, I’m so sorry,_ you try to say, _I’m so sorry I left you alone for… for so many years. Can you forgive me?_

“It’s been twenty years, Lara,” she breathes, “We just want it to be over.”

 

_I’ll bet you do._

She coughs a bit, earning QuickSilver’s immediate attention as the herbalist she’s engaged to. He walks over and grabs her by the shoulders. You watch as the perky version of your little sister returns, masking the truthful version you had seen just moments ago. QuickSilver’s voice is hurried and concerned, but Polaris shoots down his worries.

 

“It’s just all the pollen and stuff in the air, Silv, I’m okay. I really want to stay and look at the pretty statue. You and Jay wanted to pick some herbs for potions, right? Go ahead. I’ll be okay. Promise,” she says, before giggling quietly around another series of coughs. “Maybe this statue is my guardian angel. Who knows?”

 

“Polly… please,” he begs. “Let’s just go home for today. Tomorrow, if you’re feeling up to it, we can come back.”

 

She frowns at him and then looks briefly at you, apologetic. She turns back to him, nodding reluctantly. “Okay, Silv. Carry me, though?”

 

He chuckles. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

 

“I like to be in your arms, what can I say?” She jokes.

 

QuickSilver scoops her up and turns, calling over to Jay, “We’re going to head home. Are you going to come, too, or should we leave dinner out for you?”

 

“Don’t wait up,” Jay returns, making his way back over to where you’re standing. He watches you for a moment before shifting his attention to watching Polaris and QuickSilver leave.

 

He stays with you all day, plucking weeds and testing small spells to clear the patches of grass. With a flick of his wrist, water lurches up from the river and washes the moss and growth off of your body. With a day’s worth of work, the garden looks like a beautiful clearing. Jay sits down at the water’s edge, allowing himself to fall off to sleep as you, still a statue, standing with an extended outward to stop someone who’s no longer there, mouth opened in protest, watch over the area. You only hope he’ll one day save you.


	19. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordan doesn’t know how it all came down to this. It seems like such a short time ago that everyone was laughing and having fun. Sure they had their occasional spats – but what friends didn’t? Jordan was finally getting used to calling Sonja, Tucker, and Tom friends, and now the word seems wrong. Tucker and Sonja keep to themselves; Tom stays hidden in his base and only comes out to attack or steal. Jordan feels more isolated now than he had when he first came to the Realm of Mianite to be Ianite’s future follower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bakersgonnabake on FF.net said: I think it would be interesting to see a situation where the Mianite has fallen into ruin? Like no one trusts each other, and everyone is just fighting for their own side. Maybe like a scene from there, where Jericho and Sonja try to hold a talk with Jordan but Jordan is just so terrified that he won't listen and emotions are flowing and it ends with Jordan running away with tears on his face and idk where I"m going with this. -_-'
> 
> Chapter Warnings:  
> None

Jordan doesn’t know how it all came down to this. It seems like such a short time ago that everyone was laughing and having fun. Sure they had their occasional spats – but what friends didn’t? Jordan was _finally_ getting used to calling Sonja, Tucker, and Tom _friends_ , and now the word seems wrong. Tucker and Sonja keep to themselves; Tom stays hidden in his base and only comes out to attack or steal. Jordan feels more isolated now than he had when he first came to the Realm of Mianite to be Ianite’s future follower.

 

He could probably go to the Guardians, but Lara and Jace are iffy. Like the other Mianitees, they tend to stay at the beck and call of their gods. Lara, the pacifist that she is, doesn’t ever lash out at him, but Jordan can see the hesitancy in her eyes when he goes to her. Jace, however, will stand there and, at best, his tail will flit angrily behind him, as if he’s waiting to be attacked; at his worst, Jace is all claws and teeth, and Jordan’s more than once been forced to find healing potions to keep himself from a miserable fate at the hands of the Guardian who had once been extremely playful.

 

Like the others, Polaris is different now. She’s louder sometimes. Other times, she cowers. Tom stalks outside of Jordan’s house one morning and Polaris scrambles into a tiny, dark hidey-hole, rumbling fearfully from deep within her chest as her small body shakes. It takes Jordan a moment to see the bow in Tom’s hand and to put the pieces together in his mind. Polaris is still the previous Enderdragon. Polaris is afraid of bows because a bow was the weapon that ended her previous life. She’s afraid of death.

 

It takes Jordan two hours to coax the tiny dragoness out of her self-proclaimed den, and another three to get her to unlatch from his arms or shoulders when she refuses to be put down out of fear that Tom will walk inside to kill her. Jordan finds it strange that she had been so willing to recklessly breathe fire at him when she had first arrived, but with a bow in Tom’s hand, she’s frightened of the zombie hybrid.

 

Jordan decides, one day, to go to visit Sonja and Tucker. He’s forced to bring Polaris along because the little dragoness is too afraid to be left alone after Tom tried to break into the house last night. He just wants to see his _friends_ again; he just wants everything back to normal. Jordan misses when the Overworld wasn’t in ruin and things weren’t unkempt. He misses the bonds they all had, long before Mianite and Dianite’s war became something more than an empty threat Declan or Mianite told them all about. Now, the war is real and no one is on anyone’s sides. Their friendships have been destroyed in the matter of a second, just because some higher powers have decided to have a fight.

 

He stops in front of Tucker and Sonja’s castle. The path leading up to it has become overgrown and cracked. Where there were once lines of bushes, there are rows of dangerous, thorny rose bushes. The entrance to their base is covered in signs warning others to stay out or risk being attacked. It’s not the most welcoming sight, but nothing really is anymore.

 

Jordan swallows past a knot in his throat, anxiety settling in his stomach, and the dares to knock on the door – once, twice, three times – until Tucker opens it. Jordan instinctively pulls Polaris closer, noting to himself that Tucker has an enchantment on the sword that’s in his hands. The sword is lowered reluctantly.

 

“What do you want?” Tucker asks.

 

“Whoa… I just wanted to say ‘hi,’” Jordan answers.

 

Polaris climbs up onto his shoulders and wraps herself around his neck. He can feel the spines on her tail tickling underneath his chin, but more concerning is how she’s trembling in Tucker’s presence, even as Jordan risks a tiny wave.

 

“Is that Jordan?” Sonja calls over as she walks over to the door. “Hey, Jordan. Tucker, let him in. He’s Ianite’s. He’s neutral.”

 

 _Neutral,_ Jordan repeats inwardly, wanting to tear the word apart. Ever since the war starting, they’ve been dubbing one another by side. Jordan is neutral, and depending on which team you ask, either Tom or Sonja and Tucker are good or evil. It’s just another unfortunate adjustment that he’s had to get used to. It’s one he hates, more than he hates the loneliness that has come from this war. He almost hates it as much as he hates everyone being at each other’s throats.

 

Tucker steps back and lets Jordan walk inside. Jordan hears the door close behind him, and he hates that it makes him jump. Before, he wouldn’t have thought twice about the door being shut. Now, he can’t help but look for another escape – just in case he finds need of it. He hates the paranoia and distrust he feels toward people who are his _friends._

 

“It’s okay, Polaris,” he murmurs as he walks further into the castle.

 

Sonja gestures toward a couch. “Sit down, Jordan. Hi, Polly. Want something to eat?”

 

Polaris growls lightly at her, earning a frown from Sonja, and then the dragoness nestles even closer to Jordan’s neck. Jordan can feel her warm breathing coming out in frantic, fearful bursts of air against his throat. Her shaking hasn’t stopped, either. Jordan tries not to pay attention to her behavior as he forces himself to sit down.

 

Tucker sits down a respectable distance away from him, and Sonja sits down on the other side of the couch. Jordan presses his side against the arm of the couch, trying to keep as far from Sonja as he can in fear that Polaris might try to snap at Sonja’s fingers if the Mianitee gets too close.

 

“So, Jordan,” Sonja says, drawing out the words. Her gaze turns toward Tucker.

 

Tucker continues, “we’re glad you decided to visit. We wanted to talk to you, actually – but since Tom’s base is so close to yours and we couldn’t leave ours unguarded, we couldn’t visit. I trust Sonja alone, but Tom is brutal when he goes after her. He doesn’t seem to get that he can’t keep going after her like he does.”

 

Jordan nods politely. He reaches up to brush his fingers along Polaris’ scales, wishing she would stop shaking. His own heart is beating a bit faster than it should be, but he’s alright – for now. He knows there’s a way up to their pool that he can use if he has to run out in a hurry. He can just jump into the ocean, or ride the waterfall down and run. What about Polaris? She doesn’t like water.

 

He brushes the concerns aside as Sonja continues where Tucker left off, “We wanted to ask you to switch sides. You’ve already with Mianite in the past, so you know how he does business. We know Tom’s been talking to you about joining Team Dianite, but you’ve never really liked Dianite, have you? He hurt Lady Ianite – but she’s not doing so great, and you’d be way more help—”

 

“I’m not switching side,” Jordan interrupts. “I’m loyal to Lady Ianite. I… I wouldn’t mind helping you guys, but I don’t want to hurt Tom, either. I’ll help you guys make defenses and all that stuff, but….”

 

“We can’t have you helping Tom past our defenses, Jordan,” Tucker says.

 

Jordan gives Tucker a long, incredulous look. He’s helped Tucker and Sonja in the past, and he’s _never_ told Tom how to get past anything – not until the base was considered abandoned. Now, they’re looking at him like betraying them is a common practice for him.

 

“I would _never_ ,” he counters.

 

Sonja and Tucker exchange a glance before Sonja sighs, “Jordan, it’s… it’s nothing personal, it’s just… Mianite doesn’t want any screw ups. Even Lara is on a tighter leash now than she was before.”

 

“I know that,” Jordan mutters. “She won’t tell me anything, and she hasn’t visited me in weeks.”

 

“She’s not supposed to,” Tucker admits. “Unless you side with us against Dianite and Tom, then Lara’s not allowed to help you.”

 

“If you’re not with us, you’re against us?” Jordan guesses. He swallows past a larger knot in his throat and tugs at his collar. His face feels flushed. His body feels like it’s beginning to overheat. His eyes are burning.

 

Everything is different.

 

Everything is _so_ different.

 

And he hates it.

 

“How did it come to this?” He asks, trying to compose his voice.

 

“What do you mean?” Sonja inquires.

 

Jordan looks between the two in front of him. “How did we becomes _enemies_?”

 

Tucker shakes his head. “Jordan, we aren’t. You’re neutral. We aren’t going to fight with you unless—”

 

“I meant _all of us_ , not just us,” Jordan interrupts. “Tom, too. Tom and Jace and Nade and—how did we become enemies? Why does it matter what the gods say or do? What happened to our friendly pranks and competitions?”

 

Neither of them seem to know how to answer, so Jordan draws to his feet. His breathing is faster now. His heart is slamming against his ribs. On his shoulders, Polaris is grumbling out more and more growls, becoming more fearful and angrier. It’s as though her emotions are being amplified by his own, and the more anxious he becomes, the more she trembles.

 

“I am _not_ Team Dianite, but I’m also _not_ Team Mianite,” he growls, eyes watering. “I-I’m Team _Ianite_. And… And if you instigate against me, I’ll show you how strong Lady Ianite is.”

 

He turns and runs toward the door. If anyone tries to stop him, they aren’t fast enough. He throws the door open and darts outside, rushing back to his house. Tom is nowhere to be seen, but Jordan knows he could be around – but Jordan doesn’t have the patience to be wary. He reaches his house and closes the door behind himself, sitting with his back against the wall as a scream of frustration and loss frees itself from his throat.


	20. One New Voicemail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Lara Night. Please leave your name, number, and message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Swearing  
> Mentioned character death  
> Drinking

_This is Lara Night. Please leave your name, number, and message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you._

Lara?

 

I might be drunk.

 

I know I said I wouldn’t drink – an-and I normally don’t. I promise. I just… I had to do something. I had a lot to get off of my mind tonight. I gave in to Tom and Tucker’s suggestions to go out with them and I just thought – hey, you know, one won’t hurt. But, uh… one turned into two and then three and then… I think I downed an entire bottle of whiskey by myself. I’ll probably regret doing this in the morning, but right now…

 

I don’t know.

 

I guess I feel good, if this is what ‘feeling good’ is.

 

My face is on fire, and my heart feels strangely light. My throat is so warm right now. My head is… my head is nowhere and everywhere. That’s probably why I’m drunk-dialing you. Hearing your voice always makes me feel better.

 

Remember when Jace drank half of that bottle of rum by himself? Haha. You intervened and helped him drink the rest because you didn’t want your stupid kid brother dying of alcohol poisoning. I remember I found you after he went to bed. You were trying to wash the glasses up, but you were… you said you were buzzed, but you were definitely more than buzzed. I had to wash the dishes that night, while Jace slept and then you slept at your aunt’s house.

 

I remember how I was so frustrated with you because I didn’t know that Jace had just gone through a messy breakup from a toxic relationship that made him think he wasn’t worth shit. He never told me, and you didn’t tell me he was considering drinking himself to death that night, so I thought—so I thought you two were just drinking for the sake of getting drunk. I never thought you were saving him from himself, or that you’d been the one to drink most of the rest of the bottle and drag his wasted, passed out ass up to his bedroom. I never knew that. Or that the reason you slept at your aunt’s, after making me drive you there at eleven o’clock at night, was because you didn’t want me to have to deal with you being hungover. You know I would’ve, right?

 

I don’t know why I thought that. Jace doesn’t drink much more than the occasional, social beer, and you won’t even touch champagne or wine. You’ve always said drinking is a bad habit – but here I am, Lara. Remember how I said I thought I was drunk? Pretty sure I am. I’m rambling like I am, aren’t I?

 

God, if you saw me…

 

How pissed would you be right now? Looking at your boyfriend, drunk in some dirty bar bathroom, drunk-dialing you because he’s drunk off his ass and wanting to see you? I bet you’d be livid. I bet you’d yell at me, or maybe you’d just give me that “I’m totally done with you tonight, dammit, Jay” look and then lead me to bed. Maybe I’d have to sleep on the couch or in the bathroom, that way, when it hits me, I don’t puke on the covers or on your nice carpet that you have under the bed. That blue one.

 

But I…

 

Hm…

 

You know, I always hated that look from you.

 

Ha!

 

That “Jay, you fucked up” look.

 

Don’t you think I fucking know that I fucked up? Do you think I wanted to see that shitty look on your face? You know, in some ways, you’re just like your dad – or mine! You’re always such a judgmental, prideful, “my way or the highway” kind of bitch, and I—and I hate that about you. It made it really fucking hard to get close to you, and you were always so fucking indecisive about letting me in. Do you love me? Do you not? God, it was like walking on eggshells trying to date you! If I didn’t say the right things, you bitched; if I didn’t do the right thing, you bitched; if I decided to be playful and joke around when you wanted to be serious, you bitched.

 

Sometimes, I just wanted you to shut up and listen…

 

I just wanted you to smile and be happy, not be so worried about everyone else. I never cared about them, Lara, I cared about you. I didn’t care what my dumbass friends were doing. If I could spend the night with you, I wanted to do that. But you… you were always so worried about everyone else. If something came up at your place of work, even on a date night for us, you took over that person’s shift or went back in to handle it. If something happened with Jace or Polly, you were with them and not with me. Sometimes, I feel like when I started dating you, I started to date everyone around you, too. But I don’t love the world. I love you. Let the fucking world burn for all I care, as long as…

 

As long as I got to watch it burn with you.

 

Sorry, by the way. You don’t deserve my anger I just—

 

I’m fucked right now, Lara. I lied when I said I felt good. I don’t feel shit, except guilty and like I want to curl up in our bed and never leave. It might be the alcohol talking, though, ‘cause I normally love the night. The moon’s beautiful. Can you see it?

 

Tucker and Tom are bashing on the door. Must think I’ve been on a tirade or something. Maybe they think I’m… no. I’m not even going to talk like that. They can tell I’m not in the bathroom with some chick, though. I’m not the kind of guy who cheats, just like you’re not the kind of girl who does. I know I fucked up about that in the past, too, but at least I admitted it and we worked it out. Most people probably wouldn’t have stayed, so… thanks for that. Thanks for not losing all the faith you had in me.

 

I’m fine, though.

 

Pissed off.

 

Numb.

 

Drunk.

 

I had flowers delivered today for you. Irises, just like you liked. I miss seeing your face light up when I would surprise you with them. I hope you got them and like them as much as you used to.

 

Mm. 

 

Uh…

 

Hey, Lara?

 

I wish you were still alive.


	21. Imprinting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaida nods and the five dragons leave, returning to their tree. While the door closes behind them, you look over at Umbra and her mother. Her mother has had to stop tending to her because the little girl’s eyes have followed Kaida out the door. As soon as Kaida is officially gone, Umbra whimpers, and her mother carefully cradles her close. You wonder to yourself what this means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> None

Her mother is exhausted when she’s born, and you can’t blame her. She’s been through a lot just for this, but even she seems to agree, with soft eyes and a blissful, tired smile, that the little bundle in her arms is worth all the stress. The two of you don’t invite anyone over. You want her to have her rest, and for your child to be able to just enjoy her first days of life without the stress of loud, fussy people trying to get their turn to hold her. You take your daughter and let her mother fall off to sleep, while you rock the baby girl and hum under your breath lullabies you didn’t even know you picked up from the women who’ve been around you so much recently.

 

When you discussed with her before, your daughter’s mother suggested that you name your child Umbra. She had said it was a fitting name for you, and that it would be nice. It “rolls off of the tongue well,” she’d laughed. Now, looking down at your daughter, you think it does. Umbra. Your little girl with dark hair and brown eyes. Sleep, Umbra.

 

* * *

 

 

The first people you let meet her are the Enderdragons. (You and her mother decide to let everyone else meet her whenever you run into them.) Polaris spends a bit of time squealing in delight and cooing down at your daughter, bouncing on her own heels because she misses when the triplets were so tiny. You fail to believe they ever were, since you apparently met Kaida after less than a year or her life and already the little dragoness was Eris’ size, but you don’t say that. QuickSilver spends time talking with you and watching his children from the corner of his eye when they ask, very politely, if they can try to hold your daughter.

 

Her mother agrees and Polaris helps to get the triplets to sit down. One by one, the three little dragons are shown how to hold your daughter. Drake is the first to get to hold her because he’s the most visibly calm and attentive. He smiles politely down at her, but after a moment offers to let one of his siblings hold her. You think he must not like the idea that he could accidentally hurt her. Draco is the next to hold her, and only once he stops literally vibrating with unspent energy. He talks at her for a few minutes and grins when he gets a happy smile.

 

Kaida is the last of the triplets to hold your daughter, only because she was wary about it. It’s one of the few times you’ve ever seen Kaida fearful, and it pains you. The little girl you’d gotten used to knowing as brave, fearless, and playful has no place being afraid – especially not of a baby who can’t hurt her. Especially not when you still think that your reason for being so active in engaging in having a child may have very well been because of something Kaida subconsciously offered to you in form of a premonition.

 

When Kaida takes your daughter in her arms, it’s like the world stops for her. Kaida, who had been sitting stone still until your daughter had been set in her grasp, relaxes and looks down at Umbra with awe-filled eyes. Umbra is watching her with the same intensity, making tiny, babbled noises up at the little dragoness as she opens and closes her fists. For a moment longer, the room is silent except for Umbra, and then Kaida starts talking to her. Umbra only seems to get happier, giggling up at Kaida and babbling nonsense back to her. It takes you a moment to strain your ears enough to hear the quiet rumble in Kaida’s chest that you recognize as purring.

 

* * *

 

 

You learn one night when the triplets are staying with you that Umbra is afraid of storms. When you lay her to bed in her crib, you think nothing of the storm you heard was supposed to roll in over the realms. You and her mother have never reacted to storms, and so some part of your assumed that she would hold no reaction as well. As you’ve found out, that assumption was both misplaced and incorrect – but you don’t learn that during that night. As far as you’re concerned that night, Umbra and the triplets sleep peacefully in their designated rooms, in their designated beds.

 

You wake to Umbra’s mother shaking you in the morning with a concerned look on her face, asking you if you knew that Kaida wasn’t in her bed. When you inform her that you didn’t, she leads you to the nursery where Umbra’s crib is. Inside of the crib is your daughter, as you expected, but in her arms is a cat-sized dragoness that you recognize immediately because of her solid obsidian-black scales. While Umbra is still fast asleep contentedly with the dragoness wrapped in a hug like a teddy-bear, Kaida is wide awake and looking up at you like she can’t figure out if she’s done something wrong, or if climbing into Umbra’s crib at some point during the night was an okay thing to do. Despite this, you can hear a cautious purr rolling from Kaida’s belly.

 

You look over at Umbra’s mother, but you don’t see concern written across her face. What you see is confusion, perhaps toward what prompted Kaida to climb into the crib. Brushing aside your own confusion, you reach down and carefully unravel the little dragoness from your daughter’s arms, allowing Kaida to quietly crawl out of the crib. The little Enderdragon shifts back to human-form as soon as her feet hit the floor.

 

“Kaida, what happened?” Umbra’s mother asks softly.

 

“Umbra was crying, and… and I didn’t want her to be sad. I don’t think she liked the storm,” the child answers in a hesitant voice, clearly still expecting some form of punishment or lecture. “Momma and Daddy let us crawl into bed with them when we’re scared, so I thought if I laid with Umbra, she wouldn’t be so afraid.”

 

You nod. “Well, thank you.”

 

She looks over at you and rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Am I in trouble?”

 

Umbra’s mother shakes her head. “No. We were just worried something more happened. Do you want to stay with me while I get Umbra ready for the day?”

 

Kaida smiles and, as if by magic, every little shred of fear is gone from her. A tiny bubble of excitement and happiness blossoms out from around her, and you can feel it brush at you until you feel lighter and less concerned. You excuse yourself from the room and go to wake Kaida’s brothers, who start their day as they have since you met them – Draco rushes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and hair, and Drake makes his and Draco’s beds. Drake politely asks you where his sister is, and you answer him.

 

Later, Umbra’s mother mentions to you the word “imprinting” and tells you to ask Polaris or QuickSilver about it. You question why she knows that word and what it means, but all she tells you is that imprinting is something that things like her do, too, and then she stresses again that you need to ask Polaris or QuickSilver because she doesn’t fully understand it herself, other than knowing that it’s an immediate connection.

 

* * *

 

 

“Polaris… can I talk to you? Alone?”

 

“Sure. What’s up?”

 

“What’s – what was it, oh, right – imprinting?”

 

Polaris looks at you funny before she gives you a confused look. “Imprinting?” She repeats slowly, and you nod. You don’t understand what her look is for until she shakes her head at you. “Imprinting is an instinct that forms a bond between two things.”

 

You nod slowly, trying to let that definition soak in. You still don’t really understand it, though. Polaris seems to recognize your confusion because she hums a bit, looking around like she’s trying to find a magical explanation to fix your understanding.

 

“Uh… I did it to Jordan. When I first saw him, it was like… ‘Hey, I like you, you’re nice and you smell nice and you’re friendly to me, let’s be best buds forever.’ That kinda thing. Or like how the triplets have imprinted on Silv and I – or Kaida has to you – or I have to Silv in general,” she attempts to explain, “it’s just an all-around good feeling that you kinda develop right away because you know you can trust that person, no matter what. Just… something about them is so nice.”

 

“I… think Kaida imprinted on Umbra, or the other way around, or… maybe both ways?” You say, uncertain how to explain what you’ve been pointed out. You understand, now, why Umbra’s mother had said she had imprinted on you – she loves you, and she trusts you, as she has since the first day you truly met her. It was an immediate connection, and having that shattered for even a moment had felt like death.

 

Polaris’ eyes widen a bit before she blinks at you. “Kaida… did what?” She asks. You repeat yourself, even more unsure, but the dragoness before you seems to know exactly what you mean. She shakes her head and offers a tiny smile.

 

“I thought she might have,” she admits, “when she reacted the way she did to Umbra. At first, I thought she might be afraid of her since she didn’t want to really hold her, but the way she reacted as soon as Umbra was in her arms… That instinctual desire to be close is unmistakable.”

 

“She slept in Umbra’s crib last night because I guess Umbra was afraid of the storm,” you tell her.

 

Polaris nods. “Definitely sounds like imprinting. Just… I’ll talk to Kaida about it, but just be careful. The only real bad thing about imprinting is that it makes you kinda protective and possessive until you learn how to cope with it. Kaida’s still little herself, so she really doesn’t know how to handle that possessiveness. I don’t think she’d ever, you know, lash out at you two, but she could.”

 

“We wouldn’t take it personally. We know Kaida’s a good girl,” you assure.

 

“Like I said, though, I’ll talk to her about it,” she says.

 

“Is it harmful?” You ask after a moment of hesitant silence.

 

“No,” she answers, smiling at you.

 

QuickSilver and the triplets walk over and Polaris sweeps Draco off of his feet. Kaida is sitting on her father’s shoulders, and Drake is holding QuickSilver’s hand. After fussing over her three children for a moment, Polaris turns to Kaida.

 

“Hey, kiddo, you and Momma need to talk later, okay?” She says.

 

Kaida tenses up, clearly expecting to be scolded. “A-Am I in trouble?”

 

Polaris shakes her head. “Nah. It’s just a little talk. We can even make lunch while we talk, if you want. Momma just wants to talk to you about Umbra – but you’re not in trouble, sweetie. Nobody’s in trouble, or going to be in trouble.”

 

Kaida nods and the five dragons leave, returning to their tree. While the door closes behind them, you look over at Umbra and her mother. Her mother has had to stop tending to her because the little girl’s eyes have followed Kaida out the door. As soon as Kaida is officially gone, Umbra whimpers, and her mother carefully cradles her close. You wonder to yourself what this means.


	22. One Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara frowns at him and he fears for a moment that he’s already done the wrong thing. When her gaze softens, though, he knows he hasn’t. “Jay, you need to make sure you eat something,” she scolds, “do I have to stock your fridge for you? I’ll send Jace over later with some.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Vampire  
> Swearing

Jay rubs at the back of his neck.

 

Obsessively.

 

He’s still new at the whole ‘blood-sucking’ thing, but he’s been promised that it will definitely get easier. All he needs to do is make sure he has blood in some form, and he’ll be fine. Really. That’s all he needs to do. It’s so simple.

 

Unless, you know, you’re Jay and you forget to stock up from the local blood drive that is done monthly by volunteers for creatures like him that require blood to survive.

 

Jay has a problem with remembering to do things. It can be as simple as remembering to inform someone of something, to, apparently, remembering how not to die. Again. It’s not a medical ailment, even if some of the others like to joke about how it probably is and he’s just not clever enough to know it. In life, he was always forgetful – no matter how important something was. He supposes that it’s only fitting that in this not-life, he’s forgetful, too.

 

So, here Jay is, obsessively rubbing the back of his neck because his girlfriend is standing on the other side of his door, probably extremely impatient because she’s been out there for about ten minutes now.

 

He opens the door and guiltily meets her eyes. She looks frustrated with him, as he expected. Not angry, but definitely annoyed. He hasn’t told her why he made her wait.

 

“Uh… Lara, look, I—”

 

He cuts himself off because, god, he can smell her. He can _smell her_ and hear her heart pumping in her chest. She smells like flowers and earth. Honey. Sweets. Chocolate. She smells like everything good in the world, and he hears his stomach growl in desire to claim that scent for himself.

 

“You haven’t eaten, have you?” She asks.

 

Jay blinks at her and then shakes his head. He realizes that it’s slipped his mind that Lara knows someone like him, although that person has a different craving. Silv feeds off of positivity, which is why he hangs around that dragon-girl, Polaris, so much. Polaris is practically a walking ball of joy, which is funny when you remember that she’s a _fucking thirty-foot tall lizard with teeth the size of a building._ But, no, Polaris is great, especially when she’s in her human-form and can’t try to squash Jay with her _massive_ feet when he teases her. (She’s fun to chase around with a laser-pointer, though. Let that be on the record. Lara has banned him from doing it after he ‘accidentally’ had Polaris destroy a few important temples while the dragoness was chasing the light.)

 

“Uh… no,” he admits, not wanting to lie or upset her.

 

A happy nature goddess is a good nature goddess. An unhappy nature goddess is a scary nature goddess. Never upset a nature goddess. They strike people with thunder and make constant rain clouds. They’re awful at jokes, too. Lara, especially, takes things very seriously – or she used to. Since meeting Jay, Lara’s sense of humor has gotten better.

 

Lara frowns at him and he fears for a moment that he’s already done the wrong thing. When her gaze softens, though, he knows he hasn’t. “Jay, you need to make sure you eat something,” she scolds, “do I have to stock your fridge for you? I’ll send Jace over later with some.”

 

Jace, Lara’s ‘brother’ (cousin, really, but they never say ‘cousin’), is a phoenix. He’s fun to be around – when he’s not lighting Jay’s things on fire. Jace has an affinity toward pulling pranks, which helps him and Jay get along rather well. Jay has only seen Jace ‘die’ twice, and each time the phoenix has emerged in a fiery ball, coughing up soot and ash. He currently lives with a fire spirit and a kitsune, and it’s through the kitsune that Jace has the easiest access to the blood gained from the drives.

 

“Sorry,” Jay offers.

 

Lara shakes her head. “It’s not your fault. Just be more careful next time.”

 

He nods, watching a bit more memorized than he usually does as she walks past him. His eyes lock on the way her hips sway when she steps. His ears strain to hear her light footsteps and the way she’s humming a tune under her breath, clearly trying to distract him. He lets out a small purr as he follows behind her, completely stuck on her.

 

“Anything for you,” he promises, “anything… for…”

 

She turns and places a finger on his lips. “How far gone are you?”

 

“Gone,” he mumbles, hardly able to focus on her words.

 

Her eyes are so blue and pretty, even as chastising as they are. Her lips are red – lip-gloss; apple-flavored based on the scent alone. Her hair frames her face so well, and runs down along her neck, and rests on her shoulders, and…

 

“My eyes are up here, vampire,” she scolds.

 

His eyes flit back up to hers, but he doesn’t apologize. Her words don’t demand one. He can hear the slight tease in her tone, showing that she’s not at all upset that his gaze had begun to drop downward. She lowers her finger and he follows it with his eyes as she draws circles in the air, perhaps to test how distracted his mind is.

 

“Extremely so,” she agrees, before sitting down on his bed.

 

 _Good. It will smell like you now,_ he thinks, making his way over to her. He places his hands on either side of her, eyes imploring her to decide whether or not his behavior is acceptable. She chuckles, but shakes her head.

 

“I would much rather you be in your right mind for this, Jay,” she informs, “after you’ve eaten something and gotten back your conscious self, we can discuss that matter.”

 

“Kiss?” He begs.

 

She rolls her eyes affectionately, before kissing him. It lasts for only a moment, but it’s enough to sate him for now. It’s enough that he lets her get up off of the bed to check in his fridge for what she must already know she won’t find.

 

She sighs. “You really _are_ out. I thought you might’ve just wanted to try something.”

 

He shakes his head, forcing himself to sit on the bed. “Nope. Out. Kiss again?”

 

Lara turns to him. “No. Because one more kiss will be more than you can handle. Goodness, if you were an animal, you would be going mad right now. You might be the vampire here, but a goddess like myself can sense when something is on the verge of insanity.”

 

“Not insane,” he defends. “Just… you know.”

 

“Desiring,” she finishes. “I know. But it’s not me that you desire right now, is it?”

 

He tips his head, confused, as she walks over to the bed again. She straddles his hips, sitting in his lap, and raises her wrist to him. “You want this,” she says.

 

Jay can hear her pulse thrumming. If he looks close enough, he can see it pumping against her skin, just slightly. Her heart is steady and he wonders what his would be doing right now, if it still beat. He guesses it would be racing like an addict’s when confronted by their addiction. Her heart beat makes him want to press his head against her chest and never allow her to leave, because it sounds so beautiful.

 

He purrs, but stops himself. “Lara, I don’t want to bite you.”

 

“You can’t change me. I’m a goddess.”

 

“That’s… That’s not what I meant. I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

She caresses his cheek. “You would never,” she states confidently. “Have more faith in yourself, Jay. I know you would never bring harm to me. You’re not the type to hurt someone you love.” She lowers her hand and once again offers her wrist. “Now let me help you.”

 

He hesitates a moment before the hunger manages to overpower him. Jay takes her wrist in his hands and sinks sharpened teeth into the delicate skin. Her pulse thrums against his mouth as warm liquid slides down his throat. Despite her calm composure, her pulse is quick. Greedily, he presses his teeth harder against her body. Her blood tastes as sweet as she smells. It’s like liquid sugar, and for a moment, he feels like his heart is beating with her. (He knows it isn’t. It always feels like it is when he drinks from a blood pack, though, but it never is.)

 

Lara reaches up with her other hand and runs her fingers through his hair. She’s so trusting. So soft. So warm. So sweet. So nice.

 

After a moment, Jay unhinges his jaw from around her wrist, licking up the last bit of red that’s welled on the skin from two tiny teeth-marks. Her skin has already healed over by the time the blood is off of her, though two pin-pricks still exist as faded scars. Jay panics, thinking he’s somehow caused permanent damage, but Lara smiles at him.

 

“I like them,” she says. “It’s a symbol of trust.”

 

“Trust?” Jay asks, grateful to be able to focus on more than her scent and movement now that his stomach has been satisfied. “How’s that trust?”

 

“I trusted you not to try and bleed me dry, and you trusted me enough to risk your control,” she answers, before her hands find his face. “It’s also a symbol of the love you have for me that you would be so in control.”

 

Jay smiles at her. “Yeah. I can see it now.”

 

She leans in and kisses him. He kisses her back, moving her onto the bed so he can position himself on his hands and knees above her. Now that his mind is clear, she seems happier to be with him, and before he knows it, the morning sun has risen.

 

In his bed, nestled next to him, is a sleeping nature goddess.


	23. Mortality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After centuries of time passing, Lara has grown used to it. Mortals only live so long, and even if they respawn when actively killed by the environment or one another, their bodies are their ultimate enemies. As they grow, they age; as they age, they move ever-closer to their deaths. It’s just the way life is for mortal creatures – all of them. As a Guardian, Lara will never share that fate. She will remain young and full of life for all of her existence, until it’s ended one day by some outside force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Character death (non-graphic)

After centuries of time passing, Lara has grown used to it. Mortals only live so long, and even if they respawn when actively killed by the environment or one another, their bodies are their ultimate enemies. As they grow, they age; as they age, they move ever-closer to their deaths. It’s just the way life is for mortal creatures – all of them. As a Guardian, Lara will never share that fate. She will remain young and full of life for all of her existence, until it’s ended one day by some outside force.

 

The first time she witnessed death, it had hurt. The villagers had been so kind to her, allowing her to stay while she was young in their village. They were the first mortal creatures outside of mobs that she had met, and they had shown her valuable things. She learned how to grow crops from them and how to cook. But, as with all creatures, they grew old and fragile. Ill with fading life.

 

Until one day, they were dead.

 

An entire village of people – gone. Killed by a plague that Lara had been immune to only because she was created immortal.

 

Dianite had burnt the village to the ground afterward, saying that it was the only way to keep the sickness from continuing and spreading. Lara hadn’t enjoyed watching her previous home be engulfed in flames, but she understood his declaration. She turned away while the sight burned a bright orange-red-yellow mix of light, tears running down her face. Where was Mianite to prevent this?

 

Later, she would hear from her creator that death was a necessary evil in the realms, and that nothing can be done to prevent it. Mortal things live, reproduce, and die. It’s not a subject she has ever agreed upon, but it’s one she has come to resign herself to.

 

Because of her history with watching things live their lives and then lose them, she’s not reactive when Tucker and Sonja pass away. She sits at their bedside and mourns them, of course, but she does little else. There’s no point in fussing over it. Screaming and crying won’t bring them back to life, and it will just leave her to linger in her own self-pity if she does. She simply gets to her feet, buries them in a nice grave, and then returns to her current home, thankful that their deaths had been free of suffering.

 

She has lived too long. She has witnessed too many things die. It’s so hard to care now, and she feels numb to the entire process of life and death. It’s why she doesn’t let herself get close. If she’s not close to things, their deaths won’t bother her. Even so, she feels horrible for being so desensitized.

 

* * *

 

 

Jace never likes it.

 

He feels helpless, watching Tom and Nade. Nade has been bedridden for days, and Tom is looking extremely worse-for-wear. The zombie-creature’s eyes have dark shadows under them and are red where he’s rubbed at them so much. Both he and Nade look paler than Jace has ever seen a living thing be. Jace knows it’s just a matter of time now – days; maybe hours – before they’re both dead.

 

Even Dianite seems to recognize it, because he’s locked himself away in the temple. Jace doesn’t dare try to seek out his attention. Despite being used to death, he really doesn’t think Dianite enjoys it – especially not the deaths of his followers. Jace supposes that Dianite has been closer to Tom than he has many others in the past. He wonders if Tom’s death will be similar to the death of a friend, or a family member.

 

Declan had died two month ago. Champwan and the Modsteps shortly after. Tucker and Sonja had both died a few weeks ago, and Jace hasn’t seen Lara look so cold for so long. Not even Jay can bring a smile to her face right now. Mianite has been quiet during the whole thing. Jace wonders if the Aetherian god even cares anymore about what happens, because Dianite certainly does and Jace is positive that Ianite does.

 

When Tom and Nade finally do die, it’s horrible. It’s not messy, but they’ve clearly been in pain. Jace buries them next to their friends and looks over the graveyard. Admittedly, it’s a very beautiful sight. There are flowers everywhere and signs to memorialize the lives of everyone. Jace hears from Waglington one day that he and the other Wizards are going to make a shrine for each of the Mianitees as a final parting gift, and then they’ll be leaving the area. Waglington promises him that it’s not that the area isn’t “profitable” anymore; it’s that they don’t enjoy the death of loved ones.

 

Jace hides away in Dianite’s temple days later, when he’s seen the Wizards finishing up the last bits of the shrines. They’re all beautifully designed and centered on bits of their personalities. In each one is a statue of the Mianitee it’s meant to represent. One has even been made for Jordan, despite him not yet passing.

 

But Jace can’t handle looking at them without his eyes tearing up.

 

Unlike Lara, Jace has never moved past death. He has never resigned himself to it. Centuries upon centuries of death has only made him resent it and want to fight for the cause and lives of those around him. He always fails, though.

 

* * *

 

 

Polaris curls around Jordan. Her tail and wings are pressed tightly against the Mianitee, as if keeping him against her body will allow her to rip the fever from him. He’s so warm. For once, Polaris decides that she hates the warmth – but she keeps him near her, silently pleading for the foreign warmth to dissolve into her, rather than stay in him, boiling his insides.

 

Jordan has never looked so pale, or coughed hard enough that Polaris can hear his lungs rattle. He has never weakly reached up to stroke her snout, hand trembling with the effort it takes to do so. His eyes have never been so hazy or dark or absent of light.

 

Jordan has never smelt of death, or looked so ready to give up in all of the years Polaris has known him.

 

_What do I do? I don’t want him to die, Syrreth! Tell me how to save him._

Syrreth offers a sympathetic, quiet sigh, _Polaris… you cannot save him. It is natural for him to pass. He is old. He has lived a life, as others have before him._

_But I don’t want him to die,_ Polaris snarls at the older dragoness.

 

 _This is not about your desires, hatchling,_ Syrreth replies.

 

_It’s not fair…_

_Life is not._

When Jordan coughs again, Polaris tightens her body around him. She’s careful not to press too hard against his body. His bones are fragile, and with her strength, she could shatter them easily. She forces herself to hold back against the desire to hold him so tightly that not even death will be able to pry him away from her, as she knows that would do harm more than it would do good.

 

She keeps silent, just listening to Jordan as he breathes and his heart beats. When she was just hatched, Jordan’s heart beat had been something to fall asleep to. Soothing and soft. Now, his heart almost struggles with every pump.

 

It kills her inside.

 

She’s never seen death before. Unlike Lara and Jace, she’s never had to witness permanent death. But Jace is still hiding in the Nether, and Lara has been busying herself with other things (mostly, Polaris thinks, Lara has been decorating the gravesite and working to make all of the buildings permanent structures). Jay has stopped by a few times in the last week, but he always excuses himself after an hour-or-so.

 

Polaris doesn’t know how to react, and Syrreth’s company is only so helpful.

 

When Jordan dies, Polaris roars long enough that her throat feels raw. She weeps over his body before taking it to the graveyard and burying it. Lara has left a chest full of various flowers and items for her. She hesitates before planting them, digging her claws into the ground as she hangs her head.

 

 _What did I do wrong?_ She asks Syrreth.

 

 _Nothing, hatchling,_ the eons-old Enderdragon answers. _It is just how life is for them. They live and then they die. One day, there will be another for you. They may not replace Jordan, but there will always be others who visit here._

_Will it always hurt?_

_Yes. But the pain means that you remember how much you loved them. Do not linger on it, but do not shun it._

* * *

 

 

Jay looks over at Lara.

 

She hasn’t smiled for hours. No matter how foolish he tries to act, she doesn’t smile. She blinks at him with a dead gaze before turning away from him and scolding him. Finally, he’s given up trying to sway her mood. He knows she’s upset; he knows that he doesn’t completely understand why. The Mianitees were great, but they aren’t the only ones who will exist.

 

He supposes he doesn’t have the familiarity or connection to them that the other Guardians have had. He’ll miss pranking Tom. He’ll miss playfully teasing Sonja, and messing with Tucker. He’ll miss having calm conversations with Jordan about various things.

 

But he still doesn’t really understand.

 

Lara won’t smile because she misses her friends, even if she likes to say that she doesn’t care.

 

Jace won’t leave Dianite’s temple because he doesn’t want to look at all of the things in the Overworld that had belonged to the Mianitees.

 

Polaris has lost her voice due to all of her late-night roaring over her own loss, and she already doesn’t understand death in itself.

 

The Wizards are gone.

 

The gods are silent.

 

And Jay doesn’t know what to think. He’d only known them for a few decades. Long enough to develop friendships and kinships, but not long enough to mourn them for as long as the others have already.

 

But he mourns for Lara’s smile. For Jace’s antics and company. For Polaris’ chipper nature.

 

Those are things he can miss. Things he can understand.

 

One day, he’s sure he’ll mourn the Mianitees.

 

But today, he’s going to mourn over his loved ones’ losses.


	24. Undertale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay reels back away from the constant onslaught of attacks headed in his direction, all but howling in pain as vines snap out of the ground to drive themselves into his flesh. It hurts. It hurts, and he can’t escape. He can’t run. He can’t do anything. The few times he finds a brief moment to send an attack back at the damn monster going after him, it barely does anything and he’s almost immediately rewarded with a brutal beating as a punishment. If it keeps up, he’s going to die – and he really doesn’t think this thing will just let it be the once, either, even though he’s played by the rules and shown mercy to everything that tried to kill him before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Swearing (one or two times)  
> SPOILERS FOR UNDERTALE.

Jay reels back away from the constant onslaught of attacks headed in his direction, all but howling in pain as vines snap out of the ground to drive themselves into his flesh. It hurts. It hurts, and he can’t escape. He can’t run. He can’t do anything. The few times he finds a brief moment to send an attack back at the damn monster going after him, it barely does anything and he’s almost immediately rewarded with a brutal beating as a punishment. If it keeps up, he’s going to die – and he really doesn’t think this thing will just let it be the once, either, even though he’s played by the rules and shown mercy to everything that tried to kill him before.

 

The other monsters he’d run into had been mostly harmless. Most of them were just excited to see a human running around in their world. Some of them wanted to drag him to their king to be executed, but even the king wasn’t a bad guy. Not really. He was just upset that his kid died and wanted to give his people something to hope for. Jay couldn’t imagine that collecting all of those souls had been a fun experience for a guy that the residents of this underworld called “King Fluffybuns”.

 

But here’s Jay, trying to survive everything being thrown at him – and _failing_. In a few more hits, he’s going to die. He’s going to die and _this_ monster is going to make him relive it forever, and then steal his soul once it decides that he’s had enough. He’s tired and it’s all becoming rapidly _too much_ for him to deal with. If he doesn’t stop frantically dodging, his body is just going to run out of energy and give out, no matter what he does.

 

Just as he feels his legs stumble and shuts his eyes, waiting for that one last attack to just end it all, something changes. He warily opens his eyes to see that the monster is gone. Standing in front of him, tossing knives, is a pitch-black figure with an aqua light in its chest. The figure continues to toss them up and down a few more times before, all of a sudden, they start to toss knives in Jay’s direction. Jay rolls out of the way of the first few, and then uses the momentum to push himself to his feet. He leaps out of the way of the next ones, and then ducks to dodge the ones that follow.

 

“H-Hey! Stop it! C-Can’t you see I’m already tired?” He shouts. “I’m already gonna die by that other thing, so why are you helping it? We’re both humans, right? Help me!”

 

The figure stops moving. Jay dodges the last of the knives that come his way, and then stops. He braces his hands against his knees, taking in a few large, long deep breaths. He doesn’t notice that the figure has approached him until they put their hands under his chin, forcing him to meet their gaze. The blackness melts off of them, revealing a young woman just shorter than Jay himself, with dark hair and brilliant purple eyes. The same aqua light is glowing in her chest, only brighter.

 

“I’m sorry,” she says. She lowers her hands and reaches into her pockets, pulling out a few Band-Aids, which she starts placing on his injuries. Just the motion alone seems to heal Jay. “I’m really, really sorry, Mister. I-I didn’t know what I was doing. That thing, it’s—”

 

She vanishes before she can finish, and Jay finds himself once again pitched back into the middle of a furious attack on his being. Revitalized, he dodges with skill for the first few minutes, before all of the healing from the other human soul starts to give way. At least his parrying attacks seem to be doing more, though. It still doesn’t help that he’s practically back to where he was before the other soul tried to help him.

 

After a few minutes more of frantic dodging, the world around him changes again. This time, though, there are two pitch-black figures. Each of them has half of an orange light, which looks like a strange half-circle in their chests. Twins, he guesses. One of the twins lifts their hand, and the other twirls theirs. Jay feels his legs leave the ground as he’s thrown around like a ragdoll, being crashed up against things whenever one of the twins see fit to express their boredom.

 

“Hey! Stop! That hurts! C’mon, guys, help me, don’t hurt me,” he shouts, “we’re all fighting for the same thing, right?”

 

His flight is suspended suddenly. The twin twirling their hand lowers it, and the other one slowly lowers theirs. Jay’s feet touch the ground safely again once the second twin folds their hand in front of themselves. Both figures change, just as the other soul had. One of them – the one who lowered Jay to the ground – is a young woman with eyes like stars; the other is a man with gold hair. The orange glows remain in their chests, but glow brighter.

 

“Sorry ‘bout that, dude,” the male offers.

 

The female nods. “Yes, we are. Whatever is using our souls, it is extremely powerful…”

 

The male laughs and jogs over to Jay’s side, clapping him on the shoulder. The force nearly causes Jay to topple forward, body still weak from the physical abuse and drain. The man seems to realize this because he gives a kinder smile.

 

“Hey… lemme handle that for ya,” he says, “least I can do since we kinda threw you around.”

 

Healing washes over Jay in a warm wave, and the man gives him a thumbs-up before he and the female twin vanish, just as the aqua soul had. Jay breathes the relief in for a moment. It feels good to be healed by the other souls, especially since the monster seems weaker whenever they try to help him. It sounds like the monster is the one making them act up, too – like they don’t really want to be fighting him. Of course they don’t. Jay’s fighting for the same cause they are.

 

The monster seems to have caught on because it only swings harder, and it starts to cheat. Somehow, it manages to reverse time and send Jay spiraling back into perilous situations. The first few times, he falls for it and tries to scramble to catch himself, only to be stabbed or shot or stung. It’s not fair at all, but Jay almost feels happy about it. It means that the monster is afraid.

 

He’s just about to roll past vines when a foot suddenly slams into the back of his skull. He yelps, falling backward onto his butt, and glances up. A pitch-black figure with a dark blue light in its chest is twirling around like a dancer. Every move is like an attack, aimed directly for the most crucial parts of his body – his head, his groin, his stomach, his knees, his throat. He weaves past her and finds himself trying to partner in her dance in order to avoid getting himself struck.

 

“Let’s fight together,” he urges, “we can beat this thing, but I need help.”

 

The dancer lowers her foot and the darkness rolls off of her. Dark hair. Rust-red eyes. She blinks at him and he watches the dark blue light brighten as a smile crosses her face. She’s older than the other souls he’s met, but she doesn’t look it by much. She might be in her twenties while the others are in their teens. She’s incredibly beautiful, but not really his type.

 

“Of course,” she promises, “here, let me take care of those injuries first, dear. Those look horrible. I wish we knew what was going on beyond this void…”

 

She hums under her breath as she tends to his wounds. Jay listens, smiling and shutting his eyes as he does. With every note, he feels better and better. Her song reminds him of a lullaby that a parent might hum to their child. There’s something inherently good and relaxing about it, so much so that he finds himself beginning to doze. When she vanishes, he barely remembers to get back into the action.

 

The monsters attacks are faster and more vicious. He doesn’t know whether he’s imagining it, or its attacks are really draining him more than they were before. He knows his are stronger still. It almost feels like the aqua, orange, and dark blue souls have retreated into some hidey-hole where the monster can’t reach, and they’re silently cheering him on. Or maybe they’re actually standing with him, throwing some of their own being into his attacks to make sure he hits stronger. He doesn’t really know, and he doesn’t really care. All he cares about is that he’s winning, despite the hits the monster still manages to get off on him.

 

“Monster,” a female voice snarls as the world suddenly returns to the void.

 

Jay blinks. Standing in front of him is a pitch-black figure with a purple soul. Based on the voice, he assumes they’re a female. Her voice is pretty, but every word she says feels like a knife in his body, grinding against bone. He never thought words could actually hurt so much, but they do.

 

“I’m not the monster,” he protests, “that thing is.”

 

“Really? So you _weren’t_ going to kill the king?” She challenges. “You never even _once_ considered it? Never though ‘hmm… I can kill him and go home’?”

 

He frowns. “I… no. He was a good guy. His kid died and he was just…” He sighs and then adds, “he was just being a good dad and a good leader. I don’t think he really wanted to hurt anybody.”

 

She crosses her arms. “Easy to say now,” she growls, “when you’re not the one who’s been ruined by this horrible place! We’re dead, and you’re going to die next. We were slaughtered for our souls. Murdered. Everyone in this place hates humans, even if they pretend they don’t.”

 

When he doesn’t say anything, her shoulders droop and she adds quietly, “just make it easier on yourself and give up. It’ll hurt less if you accept your fate.”

 

He shakes his head. “I won’t! I’m not going to give up so easily,” he declares. “Look. I’m sure you’re a good person, and I’m sure you’re just… trying to spare me whatever pain you went through, but… I’m not giving up. I’m going to beat this guy, and if you helped me, then no one else will ever have to suffer through what you did. I just need your help. Please?”

 

She looks over at him, and when she smiles, color returns to her. She has blonde hair and robin’s egg blue eyes. The purple glow in her chest brightens. “If you’re sure, then fine,” she concedes, “but… be careful, alright? I… I don’t want to see anymore souls running around here. There are enough of us already.”

 

Jay nods. Just her words have made him feel much better. Whatever negative affect her fear and doubt had, her confidence and care have the reverse. It’s the same as when the other souls healed him. He feels stronger and more prepared, like his energy’s returned to him.

 

“I will, I promise,” he assures before she vanishes.

 

The monster seems to know that it’s being taken down and losing its power because it starts to attack more frantically. To its benefit, the attacks are harder to dodge – and it returns to sending Jay spiraling backwards in time to catch him off-guard. Once again, it works the first few times, but Jay catches himself and fires back a powerful shot at it. It doesn’t seem to appreciate it, but Jay thinks it’s wonderful. He’s really starting to get the advantage. The other souls are supporting him.

 

He goes to dodge a swarm of flies and winds up stumbling into a fireball, which catches his arm alight. He waves his arm frantically, managing to put out the flames before they can eat through his skin. His gaze flits about the void for the next figure, and he finds it. A brilliant green light glows from its chest as it flicks a frying pan in his direction, sending showers of fire in his direction.

 

Jay jumps to the sides to avoid the fire. “Hey! D’you have any good food? I could use a snack to get my energy back up so I can kick this guy’s ass and stop the destruction of the world!”

 

“Sure! Catch,” the figure calls back, body changing to colors. Red hair. Ochre eyes. A wide, helpful smile as he flicks the frying pan again in Jay’s direction.

 

When fire comes barreling in his direction, the flames turn into fried eggs. Jay catches them and shoves a few in his mouth, nearly moaning in delight. The food is expertly cooked and absolutely delicious. He hasn’t had a good meal in a while, so the food is a welcomed change from fast food and baked goods. The eggs practically melt in his mouth, and he shoves a few more into his mouth before the green soul vanishes with everything Jay had been given.

 

He falls back into the fight with the monster, smirking despite the hits he takes. The monster is so afraid right now. When it throws him back in time, he dodges to the side. He’s gotten too familiar with it doing that to be caught by surprise. By the time he encounters the next soul, he feels less drained. He’s learned too much about the monster to be defeated now, and with the souls behind him, he doesn’t intend to let his determination to win falter.

 

The soul has a yellow light in its chest and fires bullets at him. Its accuracy is impeccable. It manages to hit him more times than it misses. The gun its holding seems to reload after three bullets, but it reloads quickly, leaving the soul able to fire more at him.

 

“A gunman, huh? Cool! I could use that as help,” Jay calls over to the figure, “Mind shooting this monster for me? Or maybe if you have healing bullets, or invincible bullets, or…”

 

The figure becomes dark-haired and silver-eyed. He holsters his gun and steps forward, reaching into his pockets for something. “She told me you’d show up,” he says, “now I that can control myself, I think I can do what she asked. Here. A good luck charm.”

 

Jay opens his mouth to protest even as he takes the four-leaf clover from the yellow soul. To his surprise, healing washes over him as soon as he touches it. The soul offers a polite smile and Jay returns it, pocketing the good luck charm despite knowing it will vanish when the soul does.

 

“Which one?” He asks.

 

“The aqua one,” the soul replies. “She was excited to see you and told us all to help. You should be able to win now. I was the last one he had to help him.”

 

Jay nods at it. Around him, the other souls appear and flood him with affection and bravery. He feels stronger now than before. The souls vanish after a moment. This time, when he returns to the fight, he fires every few minutes at the monster. It tries to attack him with everything it’s got, but the souls still inside of it send out waves of healing. The aqua one materializes Band-Aids for him. The orange ones ring out when he feels invisible hands massage his shoulders. The blue one sings in his ears. The purple one whispers encouragement and praise. The green one makes his stomach feel full and warm. The yellow one flashes the good luck charm into his sight.

 

After what feels like forever, the monster falls. It reels back and screams, staring at him with anger and disbelief in its gaze. Its body looks weak and damaged. Bloody. Scarred. On the brink of destroyed. “No… _no_ ,” it hollers, “This _can’t_ be happening! You… You…”

 

Something shifts and Jay blinks. The monster suddenly looks perfectly fine again. His chest knots as he realizes what it’s just done. It’s taken him right back to the beginning of the fight, only he feels as tired as he did just a moment ago. Just like the purple soul had said, it’s useless. He can fight all he wants, but eventually, he’ll die. Eventually, he’ll be so drained that his body can’t go on. Eventually, he’ll—

 

“You. _Idiot._ ”

 

He doesn’t get the chance to move. The monster fires a blast at him, and his mouth opens in a silent scream as the life drains out of his body faster than he can’t even think to get out of the way. Before it kills him, the monster reverses time. This time, it revives him – but only so it can run vines up through his body and nearly end his life again.

 

It does this again and again and again until, suddenly, it stops. When it stops, Jay can barely move. His body is exhausted, too exhausted to put up any kind of fight as petals as sharp as knives encircle him. They form a wide halo around him, almost as if to taunt him. If he could move, maybe he could just slip between them and run. But where would he go?

 

The monster giggles like an evil child, standing just outside the edge of the petals. “Did you _really_ think… you could defeat _me_?!” It demands. “I am the _god_ of this world. And _you_? You’re _hopeless_. Hopeless and alone…Golly, that’s right! Your _worthless_ friends… can’t save you now.”

 

It steps just a bit closer and smirks, adding as it spreads it arms, “Call for help. I dare you. Cry into the darkness! ‘Mommy! Daddy! Somebody help!’ See what good it does you!”

 

Jay glares over at the monster. Part of him wants to keep silent, so as not to give in to its taunting. Another part of him hopes that the souls are listening. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll help him again. Maybe time hasn’t reversed them. Maybe they’ll still be there.

 

“Help,” he calls.

 

He waits a moment, dreading the lack of response. The monster grins. “But nobody came,” it says, before laughing. “Boy! What a shame! Nobody else… is gonna get to see you _die_!”

 

The razor-sharp petals begin to close it around him. Jay takes in a sharp breath, shutting his eyes. This is probably the last time this thing will kill him before just taking his soul. Maybe if he just accepts that, it won’t hurt. He doesn’t really want to accept his death, but what can he do? He’s exhausted. He’s powerless. No one is going to come this time. This time, he has to listen to the monster give an insane laugh as it brings his death closer and closer.

 

Something suddenly washes over him, and Jay opens his eyes. The petals have vanished. The monster looks a mix of mortified and confused. “What? How’d you…?” It asks, before seeming to cover up its original response with a scoff. “Well, I’ll just—”

 

It probably tries to reset time again, but it fails. It immediately notices that it does because it calls attention to the loss. “Wh…? Where are my powers!?” It demands.

 

As soon as it finishes speaking, the souls appear. Each of them sends a glare in the monsters direction. The monster looks around at them with the same look of confusion that Jay’s sure is on his own face.

 

“The souls…?” The monster wonders aloud. “What are they doing?”

 

At once, the souls lunge forward, ripping and tearing at the monster. Knives and guns are pulled out to be used against it as it screams, trying to move away from them and failing. Jay watches in a sense of horrified awe as they work.

 

“No! _No!_ ” It shouts, “ _You can’t do that! You’re supposed to obey me! Stop! Stop it! Stop!_ ”

 

In a flash of bright, white light, everything is gone. The souls and their healing fades, but Jay still feels refreshed, as though he was never fighting. He draws himself to his feet and walks forward, eyes falling to the monster – now little again – that sits with its knees hugged against its chest, face buried fearfully and shamefully in its knees as it trembles. It’s not Jay that it’s afraid of, and Jay knows that. The monster is afraid of the souls. Maybe, too, it’s afraid of being left behind.

 

“I pity you,” Jay says, stopping in front of the monster. “You could have had so many friends, yet you’re like this. I could end you right now, but… I can’t do it.”

 

The monster keeps silent for a moment before it asks, “What are you doing? Do you really think I’ve learned anything from this? No.”

 

Jay shrugs. “Not killing you.”

 

“Sparing me won’t change anything,” it points out, “killing me is the only way to end this.”

 

He shakes his head. “I haven’t killed anything since I came here. You’re not going to be the first thing I do.”

 

It gives him a devilish smirk. “ _If you let me live, I’ll come back,_ ” it taunts.

 

“The souls and I can stop you,” he counters.

 

“ _I’ll kill you._ ”

 

“Nope.”

 

“ _I’ll kill everyone._ ”

 

“Nope.”

 

“ _I’ll kill everyone you love._ ”

 

“Nope.”

 

The monster remains silent, no longer smirking. Instead, it stares up at him with wide, confused eyes. Jay tries to offer it a confident look, but he’s not sure how well he manages to pull it off. “Because I’ll stop you if you try. Simple as that,” he says.

 

It makes a confused noise. He adds, “So stop asking me to kill you, alright? I worked this hard to be good and avoid having to kill anybody, so I don’t plan on killing you.”

 

It glares. “Why?”

 

“Because,” he answers simply.

 

“Why are you being…” It starts, before its voice cracks and its expression turns miserable, “so nice to me?”

 

“Because I’ve been trying to be nice,” he says.

 

“I can’t understand,” it tells him.

 

He nods. “You will, though.”

 

“I can’t understand,” it repeats.

 

“Someday, you will,” he informs it.

 

It shoves itself to its feet. “I just can’t understand…” It whimpers before it turns and darts away.


	25. Phantom Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I keep having nightmares,” she admits, “something… cutting me across my chest. Right here. It’s absolutely foolish, but I… I feel the need to check. It just feels like it gets deeper every time…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Bare-chested male and female (non-graphic)  
> Mentions of nightmares  
> Talk of death (non-graphic)

Jay stops in front of the bedroom door. Lara is standing in front of the mirror, wings extended behind herself, shirt off and folded neatly on the bed. He frowns. Lara doesn’t usually stand partially-clothed, especially not in front of a mirror – but something seems to have caught her attention about her body suddenly. He can’t tell what it is because her large, white, fluffy wings are blocking his view, but he can see that her hands are in front of herself and her hair is tossed over her shoulder.

 

“Lara…?” He calls softly.

 

She jumps, feathers bristling, and then she glances over her shoulder. “Jay,” she breathes, “goodness, you scared me.”

 

“Sorry,” he says. “I just… hope you weren’t getting ready without me.”

 

His teasing seems to fall on deaf ears because Lara doesn’t offer him any sarcastic or unwarranted mutter of displeasure. Instead, she turns back to the mirror, folding her wings behind herself as he slowly walks up behind her. He can see her hand tracing a line from between her collarbone, between her breasts, down to the bottom of the center of her ribcage. There’s nothing visible there, but she seems fixated on the spot.

 

He frowns, carefully moving to wrap his arms around her waist. He’s careful not to trap her wings. He knows she hates to have them captured, even if it’s just in a hug. Sometimes, he thinks she’s claustrophobic, but he’s never had the proof to call her out on it.

 

“Are you okay?” He asks, pressing his lips against her bare shoulder.

 

“I keep having nightmares,” she admits, “something… cutting me across my chest. Right here. It’s absolutely foolish, but I… I feel the need to check. It just feels like it gets deeper every time…”

 

He hums, kissing her shoulder again. “You’ve been waking up a lot recently, haven’t you,” he notes aloud.

 

“I’m sorry,” she offers, “I didn’t realize I was waking you.”

 

“How could I ever sleep through you screaming? Lara, if something happened to you, I’d never forgive myself,” he counters.

 

She keeps silent and he sighs, breathing in her scent. They haven’t spent many moments just being together recently. So often, Lara’s found ways to busy herself and Jay, trying to distract himself from wanting her attention, has likely only made trouble for her or given her more things to do when he’s tried to pester Tom. He’s spent more and more time around Jinx, Dianite, and Eris as of late, too, which has only made him long more for the company of the woman he loves. The times they visit Eris together, Lara spends more of her time busy with the little girl or Jace than she does with entertaining Jay’s company. He knows it’s not that they’re drifting apart as much as it is that Lara is trying to redefine what her reason for existing is outside of Mianite’s rules.

 

“Jay… can I ask you something?” She inquires suddenly. “Promise me you won’t say anything until I finish.”

 

He nods against her shoulder, closing his eyes. She reaches behind herself and gently threads her fingers through his hair. “If anything were to happen to me, would you find love again?” She asks, but before he can answer, she continues, “I hope you would. You’re a wonderful person, and you deserve to have someone at your side for all of eternity. I hope it’s me, but… if it’s not, then… I want you to be happy.”

 

Jay tightens his arms around her waist, curling his wings around her bare upper-body. He’s careful not to grate his feathers across her skin, not wanting to cause her any harm with her body as exposed as it is. He lifts his head up enough and stares at their reflections in the mirror, looking at her eyes.

 

“It will always be you,” he assures. “There won’t be anyone else, Lara. If anything happens to you, I’ll be right behind.”

 

She turns in his arms, frowning up at him. “Don’t you dare,” she scolds. “I told you once and I’ll tell you again: I don’t want to see you for at least a century if something ever occurs to me. You deserve to live a happy life, with or without me in it.”

 

“You _are_ my happy life,” he corrects, “every moment I spend with you is a moment where I couldn’t be happier – even if we’re fighting or arguing. At least you’re there, and not somewhere where I can’t be.”

 

She keeps silent and he adds, “you talk like you don’t deserve happiness, Lara, and I just… sometimes, you scare me.”

 

“I scare you?” She repeats, before laughing a bit. “How would I ever be capable of that? I’m harmless.”

 

“You scare me because I watch you put yourself in harm’s way for everyone,” he tells her, moving his hands to the curve of her hips. “I watch you throw yourself into peril over everything, all because you’ve been taught that’s what you’re supposed to do, and it scares me. I listen to you wake up screaming in the middle of the night, and it haunts me because I can’t fight those nightmares for you. Whatever demons are in your head to make you scream like you do… I just wish I could spare you them.”

 

“Jay…” She breathes. “I didn’t know my behavior frightened you that much. It’s just… I…”

 

“I know,” he says, kissing her on the lips and then pulling away. “I know. But I told you, I don’t care about anyone else. Not as much as I care about you.”

 

He moves one of his hands away from her hips and gently, carefully runs two of his fingers down the same path she’d been tracing on her chest and abdomen. She flinches a bit at his touch, though he suspects that’s more because his hands are cooler than hers, and her bare skin is sensitive. Lara has never been one to handle a chill very well.

 

“Am I hurting you?” He asks quietly, glancing up from her body to meet her eyes.

 

She shakes her head. “No. I was surprised is all,” she answers. Her eyes are full of something a mix of concern and glaze-eyed affection. “It… feels good, actually. I can’t feel that tear with your hand there. It’s like you’ve gotten rid of it.”

 

He presses his palm against her belly, bringing his other arm around to press his hand between her wings. The feathery appendages flap once before repositioning themselves over his hands, tickling his skin a bit. They’re softer than they have been in a few days, leading him to believe that Lara has been secretly preening them, plucking and discarding any that have become to brittle.

 

After a moment longer, he shrugs out of his shirt and drops it onto the floor. Unlike Lara, he doesn’t bother to fold his clothes. It takes too much effort and time, and right now, all he wants is to comfort her. She may not be visibly distraught, but the conversation and her behavior are enough to tell him that her nightmares have caused fear to stir in her.

 

He moves his hand away from her stomach, drawing her against himself to press another kiss against her lips as they stand chest-to-chest. While they kiss, Jay can feel Lara’s wings wrap around, trying to tangle with his own, and he moves his to welcome them. The closeness is familiar and warm. It’s been weeks since they’ve been so close and free to be alone, but he can tell that she needs his presence as much as he needs hers.

 

“Should we take this to the bed?” He asks when he pulls his lips away from hers.

 

She looks down, almost as though she feels guilty. Jay can understand why she feels that way, but he wishes she didn’t. He hopes she doesn’t feel pressured. “Jay, I…”

 

“I know,” he offers kindly, “you’re still not ready. But, hey…” He gently lifts her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I can wait, Lara. I’d wait forever.”

 

She offers his a smile. “Thank you.”

 

He nods, smiling back at her. “It’ll be worth the wait, for both of us,” he promises, “but for now, let’s just enjoy this.”

 

“This?”

 

“Yeah. _Us._ ”

 

She leans against him, pressing him closer to herself with a nudge from her wings. They’re more powerful than his are, but they’re also softer and more cautious, linking with his as soon as Lara seems to decide he’s close enough.

 

“I like us,” she tells him after a moment.

 

“I love us,” he agrees.


	26. Shapeshifters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silv doesn’t mind working with Polaris during potion-making class. The witch is very helpful, and she’s always happy enough to help – but today, she seems… off. The potion they’re making today is supposed to be helping to weaken a few of the dragons that have been around the school campus. Not because the dragons are evil, but because they’ve stolen some of the valuables of the school and the headmaster really wants them back because the sword, staff, and other relics are important for some reason or another. Silv doesn’t really know the details.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> None

Silv doesn’t mind working with Polaris during potion-making class. The witch is very helpful, and she’s always happy enough to help – but today, she seems… off. The potion they’re making today is supposed to be helping to weaken a few of the dragons that have been around the school campus. Not because the dragons are evil, but because they’ve stolen some of the valuables of the school and the headmaster really wants them back because the sword, staff, and other relics are important for some reason or another. Silv doesn’t really know the details.

 

Today, Polaris is being very quiet and warily taking giving him anything he asks her to hand him. Unlike usual, she doesn’t seem to want anything to do with the potion. Silv thinks it’s because Polaris likes the dragons. She’s even taken the time to learn their language, and a few of them will wander over to her, nuzzling her with their snouts. If he had to guess, Silv might assume that Polaris helped to give the dragons the relics, but it’s unlike Polaris to be a thief, despite her own endearment for the shinier things in life.

 

When they just about finish the potion, Silv leans to grab something and knocks it over. The still-boiling brew falls over the table, spilling down over the edges. Silv jerks back up into a sitting position, snatching the small cauldron up before the full contents can empty out of it, but already, it seems so damage has been done. The searing hot liquid has melted through some of the table, but that’s not all it’s done.

 

Polaris is up on her feet, away from the table, and sneezing out _smoke._ There’s suddenly the sound of crunching, snapping bones, and then, protruding from her shoulders and lower body as two leathery wings and a scaly tail with spines on it. Two horns produce from her skull, pointed backward and then curled just slightly. Her fingernails have turned to coal-black talons, and her eyes, when she looks fearfully at Silv, are no longer a green, but a bright, brilliant purple-pink that glow like a nightlight.

 

Polaris is a _dragon._

 

The entire classroom is staring at her with wide, shocked eyes. Even the teacher is standing stock still, gaping at her. While Silv has never known Polaris to be shy, she suddenly seems put on the spot. She turns, runs toward an open window, and leaps from the railing. Her leathery wings snap open behind her as she starts to fall. They catch the air and she’s gone before anyone can even begin to react.

 

 

Silv stays up late that night. Lara and Jay have visited him. Jay is his older brother, and Lara is Jay’s girlfriend. Lara is the oldest of all of Silv’s friends, but only by a year-or-so. She’s also one of the top students in the school currently, and often mentors Jay in some of the more boring classes that Jay probably spends more of his time watching his girlfriend assistant teach in than he does pay attention to the lectures. Lara’s younger cousin, Jace, is also in Silv’s group of friends, but he’s been trying to study for the upcoming exams for his class. Silv and Polaris are the only two freshmen of the group, while Jay and Jace are juniors and Lara is just about done with her senior year in the school.

 

Lara is sitting next to Jay on the sofa in the living area. The oldest witch has her legs curled underneath herself, petting her owl familiar while Jay’s cat familiar tries to wriggle into her lap to get at the owl. Jace’s owl familiar is also in the living area, away from his half-asleep witch who’s studying just a room away.

 

“You said Polly ran off?” Jay asks.

 

Silv nods. “Yeah. When that potion fell on her, it showed off that she was a dragon. I guess everyone staring kinda… freaked her out.”

 

Lara nods, offering a sympathetic noise at the back of her throat. “Not to mention all the trouble the campus is having with dragons,” she points out, “Polaris probably thought that she’d be incriminated if she stayed.”

 

Silv grimaces. “I hope she’s okay.”

 

“Polly’s a brave girl. She’s gotta be okay,” Jay says. “Besides, dragons don’t usually hurt their own, right, Lara?”

 

“No, they don’t,” she confirms. “If anything, they’re taking her in until she feels up to leaving again. If she does. Dragons are extremely protective of their brood, more so than they are of their troves.”

 

Jay smiles. “And this is why I’m dating the culture and history wiz.”

 

“I thought you were dating me because you loved me – or was that all a ruse to cover up the love spell you tried to curse me with two years ago?” Lara teases.

 

“I thought I used the potion,” Jay says.

 

Lara shakes her head. “No. You used the spell. If you’ll remember, it backfired and made me ill for a week instead of making me fall in love with you.”

 

“Only because you were already in love with me, so it literally made you love-sick,” Jay jokes.

 

Lara rolls her eyes and whacks him with the book she’d been holding. “Oh, stop, you,” she groans. “We’ve a dragon to find, don’t we?”

 

“We?” Jay repeats. “Don’t you have finals this week, too?”

 

“Yes. As do you,” she replies. “But I’m not letting your little brother go out there alone, just in case the dragons don’t take as kindly to him accidentally outing one of their own as they likely did to Polaris coming home to them. So, if you’re going and Silv’s going, then I’m going. Besides, I can afford to score low on my test.”

 

Jay nods. “Yeah, me, too,” he says, getting to his feet. “Let’s leave the familiars here, though, before they become dragon chow.”

 

 

Silv follows Lara through the woods. She’s holding a lantern out in front of herself, lighting the path in front of them. She seems to know the way well enough. While she walks, Jay informs Silv that Lara has memorized the maps that are available and knows the way to most different kinds of dens, caves, and nests – including those belonging to the dragons and others belonging to phoenixes. Silv wonders what things Lara doesn’t know, since she seems to know the inner- and outer-workings of the school as well as she knows her own name.

 

“The school years are long,” Lara offers when he asks. “I need to find something to do to stave off boredom. Unlike you both, I don’t see the intrigue in sport.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with human sports,” Jay protests.

 

“I didn’t say there was. I simply said I fail to see the entertainment value of seeing a bunch of grown men and women chasing after a ball across a field,” she retorts, “If I wanted to see something chase a ball, I’d at least find a cute dog and play fetch with it. It’s practically the same thing.”

 

Jay gasps in mock-offense. “Don’t you _dare_ insult my favorite teams.”

 

Lara rolls her eyes, but stops walking. “Up there, Silv. That’s the dragon den that the school’s held interest in. The one they found the rapier in a few days ago,” she says, “That’s probably the same den Polaris belongs in if she was that afraid to be seen.”

 

Silv nods, stepping forward. He waits a moment to see if they’ll make to follow, but all Lara does is offer him the lantern and say, “Jay and I will wait here. Likely, they won’t want more company than necessary, and you probably smell like their daughter enough that they won’t tear you to pieces immediately.”

 

“Thanks for the bout of confidence,” Silv lies, taking the lantern and moving past them.

 

The den is massive. The ceiling must be at least forty-feet away from the ground. Around him, sprinkled across the cold stone beneath his feet, are shiny gems and coins. Nothing seems to be inside of the den, and Silv wonders if Lara got the right timing. She had said that the dragons would stay around their dens late at night now because the weather was getting too cold for them. (In hindsight, Polaris had been shivering for a while and blamed it on her room being cold, even though Silv had gone to see her one morning and felt the room was sweltering.)

 

“Hello?” He calls.

 

As soon as his words escape his lips, two massive forms stalk out of the shadows at the far end of the cave. One of the shadows has purple-pink eyes like Polaris, but the eyes are colder and crueler than hers. The other shadow had green eyes and seems just slightly smaller than the other dragon. The smaller one steps forward to sniff at him, while the taller one lets out a warning growl.

 

 _“What do you want, creature?”_ The taller one rumbles out, voice feminine.

 

Silv shivers as the voice passes through him. “I was concerned about Polaris,” he replies, “I worried she was hurt.”

 

 _“Polaris?”_ The shorter asks, before it huffs out smoke and something akin to a laugh. _“Boy, do you mean Syrreth?”_

“Syrreth?” He repeats, struggling to pronounce the name. It sounds like rocks on his tongue, strange and foreign.

 

The shorter nods. _“Yes. That is my daughter’s name in our tongue, not Polaris. Polaris is the name she had taken on for your mortals to speak it better. She has always been curious of your kind.”_

He nods. “Is she well?” He asks. “I… I understand she may not want to speak with me, or to see me. I may very well have hurt her chances at the campus, but I just wanted to know if she was well or not. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if she got hurt.”

 

 _“She is resting now,”_ the taller informs him, _“the potion spilt on her is like illness to us. It makes us weaker and forces our true forms out of hiding. Syrreth is not natural-born to dragons alone. She is what you may consider a hybrid.”_

“Hybrid?”

 

 _“Yes. Her mother is of dragon blood, but I—”_ The shorter dragon is suddenly consumed by a flourish of smoke. When the smoke fades, a man standing around six-foot with dark hair and green eyes is standing in the dragon’s place. The other dragon purrs and nuzzles her snout into his hair.

 

“I am of mortal descent,” the man explains. “Like my daughter, I am a witch. I spent much of my time at the university learning shape-shifting spells to become nearer to the dragons, as my family had raised me near a den of them for my life. I wanted to understand their ways. When I met Syrreth’s mother, I was in form of a dragon, testing my skills.”

 

 _“He has stayed with me since,”_ Polaris’ mother muses aloud, _“dragons are creatures which mate for life, and we will stay with our mates even if it means our deaths. A dragon who loses his or her mate will likely follow them to the nether world. One who mates with a human or another outside of their breed will give to their mate the gift of immortality, so long as children are conceived between them.”_

Polaris’ father nods, petting the dragoness across her snout. “If she’s awake, boy, then you’re welcome to visit her. She’s resting in an alcove near the back of the cave, but be wary – she will not look how you’re familiar with her.”

 

Silv hums in acknowledgement, carefully walking around the two of them. “Thank you,” he offers in return, stepping toward the back of the large den. It’s larger than he anticipated, and he holds the lantern in front of himself in slightly shaking hands, trying to keep the ground at his feet lit without stirring any of the other dragons nestled in the den.

 

He stops in front of one dragon with the same jet-black scales that the female dragon had, and like Polaris’ tail had been. In comparison to the other dragons in the den, this one is smaller and curled in on itself, shuddering occasionally as though cold or in pain. Silv hesitates a moment before reaching over, hand cautiously touching against slick, cold scales. His touch seems to make the dragon realize that someone is near it because it suddenly moves its head away from under its wing to stare at him.

 

 _“S—Silv?”_ A voice unmistakably like Polaris’ stutters out. _“Silv… what are you doing here?”_

“I wanted to check up on you, and apologize,” he answers quietly. “I’m sorry for spilling that potion on you, Polaris. I didn’t know it would do that, and I didn’t mean to knock the cauldron over when I went to get my book to make sure we’d put in all of the ingredients. I should’ve guessed something was up when you acted like you wanted nothing to do with the potion, but—”

 

 _“Slow down,”_ she urges, _“jeez, Silv, aren’t I normally the fast-talker? Don’t worry about it, though. I… probably should’ve at least told you, or maybe I should’ve just pretended to be sick and skipped class – but… I really liked working with you. I thought it would be okay if I just kept my distance. I know you didn’t do anything on purpose. You would never have.”_

He nods and warily reaches out, patting her snout. Her gleaming pink-purple gaze softens and she breathes warm air out onto his palm through her nose. In spite of this being the first time he’s ever personally interacted with dragons, there’s something about being in the den that feels normal to him. It makes him think about what Polaris’ father had said, about wanting to be nearer to the dragons out of intrigue.

 

“You know, I wondered why you liked the dragons so much,” he admits. “Now I can see why. The ones who stopped by the school… they’re your parents.”

 

She hums in confirmation. _“That’s right. Dad used to visit in human-form, but he stopped when the dragons started getting into trouble. The younger ones who live in the den were the ones who stole the relics, and Mom and Dad kept coming back to the campus to give them to me so I could sneak them back inside.”_

“I just thought you were a fan of them.”

 

_“Nope. I’m a dragon. Roar. Surprise. Happy Halloween, Silv. Uh… if you celebrate that holiday. I don’t. I like the candy, though. Oh! And that sweet bread that Jace always brings – the frosted one that his dad makes? That’s yummy stuff right there.”_

He chuckles, and then yelps when her tail suddenly coils around his waist, dragging him down and to her side. When he’s pressed against her side, under her wing, she settles her tail next to him. To his surprise, the spines aren’t painful, despite being somewhat sharp. It’s probably because Polaris is careful, knowing that he’s not as strong as her, or because the potion is still in her system and it making it more difficult for her to do real damage.

 

She carefully settles her wing over him, curling her front legs under her chin as she lays her head back down. _“Stay with me tonight, Silv,”_ she begs, _“tomorrow… I’d like to go back to the school. Maybe they’ll let me stay.”_

“Lara, Jay, and I will vouch for you,” he promises.

 

Polaris hums in confirmation. She moves her wing and tail closer to him, obviously looking to get comfortable. Silv resigns himself to his position and turns, laying on his side and using her ribs as a pillow. Surprisingly, she’s more comfortable than he would expect – and she’s warm enough to be comfortable in the cold, stone den.


	27. Love Spells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During this local witching hour
> 
> I call upon the higher power
> 
> To make my heart’s deepest wish true
> 
> Hedylogos, make my words ring through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Love spell (not dub-con or non-con; non-explicit)  
> Backfiring spells leading to illness (non-graphic/non-explicit)  
> Magic being used to make telling someone your feelings be easier, and having that backfire on the caster.

“Dude.”

 

“Really, Sol, no one says ‘dude’ anymore.”

 

“I do. But, dude, come on. A love spell? Look, if you like her that much, just ask her out. You already have an in with her since her brother’s like… your frenemy or whatever.”

 

Jay looks over at Sol. The golden-haired witch is currently a senior in the magic college that Jay’s recently transferred into. Jay is currently a freshmen, and it’s only his second semester in the school. In a few more weeks, his class finals will be coming up – and if he passes those, he’ll pass his entire year. If he fails, well, he’ll have to redo the year in terms of credits. Jay’s not a bad student, but some of his classes are boring, which is how he’s come to meet Lara Night through her younger brother – who’s in Jay’s classes. (Jay’s own little brother will be joining the school in two years, and Silv is already extremely anxious about it.)

 

Lara Night, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed fancy of Jay’s, is Jay’s current student-mentor. She’s a sophomore this year, and already in the running to be at the head of her class with ease. For whatever reason, information seems easy for Lara to absorb and she’s become quite the culture-slash-lore-slash-history expert at the school.

 

Solaris – Sol for short – is a light-magic user, ironically fitting for someone named after the sun. Sol’s sister, Luna, is just the opposite. Luna studies darkness and shadows. Jay prefers Luna’s company over Sol’s, but Luna is currently busy helping to prepare for the winter solstice festival that the school apparently holds every year. Jay thinks Lara’s younger brother had offered to help, but only upperclassmen are being allowed to help out with the festival because they have the most time to spare in their schedules.

 

“Jace isn’t my ‘frenemy,’ Sol,” Jay says, scowling, “he’s alright. He’s just… really overprotective of his sister. Besides, if I told him I wanted to get his sister’s number, he’d probably try to arrange a phoenix egg to be placed in my bedroom when it was about to hatch so all of my papers would catch on fire.”

 

Sol chuckles. “Yeah, Jace does seem to have a way with the fire-birds, doesn’t he?”

 

“He was raised around them, wasn’t he? His dad’s a breeder of ‘em or something,” Jay notes aloud, before he shakes his head. “Anyway, look. I just need you to find me red wine. I happen to know that the campus doesn’t mind us getting our hands on it, even if we’re underage, as long as we’re careful about it.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sol says, getting to his feet. “I’ll have the bottle apparated to your room in an hour. Good luck, kid. Just… be careful. Spells like that don’t usually go well for you, or for the target of the spell. Love and lust are two majorly different things.”

 

Jay nods, watching as Sol vanishes in a burst of a bright, white light.

 

 

Jay looks over at Lara when she walks into the living quarters of the dorms. He’d gotten the wine out of his room a few moments ago and just poured the wine into the glasses just as she had arrived. He has the spell in his pocket, ready to be read in secrecy as soon as his guest is seated comfortably. Lara looks beautiful in a blue dress, and Jay is happy he’d told her that it was a dinner rather than a tutoring session.

 

“What’s this all about?” She asks.

 

“I wanted to thank you,” he answers. “You’ve been helping me so much, so I figured I’d cook you up something nice.”

 

“And… the wine?” She inquires. “I don’t drink, Jay.”

 

He nods quickly. “I-I know! But I asked Sol to give me some. I… I thought it might help my nerves since, you know, you’re really… pretty and stuff, and I’m just…”

 

“Rambling,” she teases.

 

Jay nervously laughs, pulling out her chair. When she sits, he gently pushes her chair in, and he steps away from the table. “I’ll go get the food,” he offers, walking into the kitchen.

 

In the kitchen, his familiar is sitting atop the counter. The cat’s tail is swishing back and forth as he stares at Jay, clearly judging him for his choices. Jay is just grateful that the familiar knows that the food isn’t for it, but for Jay and Lara.

 

“She’ll forgive me,” he mutters under his breath, “I just… I just want to be able to say how I feel properly and not worry that she’s going to run off or something. It’s not like I’m going to use a spell that lasts forever, or makes her want to sleep with me, or something. It’s just a tiny spell to make her listen. That’s all. There’s no way this could possibly go wrong.”

 

The cat lets out a small growl, but doesn’t protest any more than that. Jay walks over to the plates and pulls the piece of paper out of his pocket, quietly clearing his throat.

 

_During this local witching hour_

_I call upon the higher power_

_To make my heart’s deepest wish true_

_Hedylogos, make my words ring through._

The food on his plate lights up gold and then the food on Lara’s lights up a faint pink, before the glows fade and the food looks normal. Jay takes in a deep breath, lets it out, and walks back out into a living area. He offers Lara a nervous smile, noticing that her familiar is sitting atop one of the bookshelves. The owl seems to turn its attention to him immediately, as if realizing what he’s done. Jay swallows past the knot in his throat, hoping that it won’t draw Lara’s attention to his actions.

 

“Here,” he says softly, setting Lara’s plate in front of her.

 

“Thank you,” Lara offers, smiling at him. “It smells lovely. What is it?”

 

“Baked chicken roulade with roasted almonds,” he answers. “Jace told me how to make it. He said it was one of your favorites.”

 

She nods. “Yes, it is,” she confirms as Jay sits across from her.

 

Jay watches as she lifts her fork and knife and cuts a piece of the chicken, putting it in her mouth. She hums in appreciation around the bite of food, swallowing after a moment. “Ah. It tastes really good, Jay,” she compliments, “you must’ve followed Jace’s recipe right down to the amount of salt. This is delicious.”

 

“Yeah, I… I did,” he answers, taking a bite of his own meal. It does taste good, but he doesn’t really care. “So, I wanted to talk to you about… stuff.”

 

“Stuff?” She echoes curiously.

 

“Like… dating stuff,” he tells her.

 

She nods. “Is that what this is?” She asks. “Jay, did you want to ask me out on a date and not know how to do it?”

 

He feels his cheeks heat up just a bit. “Well, I-I… you’re really nice and pretty and… I just really didn’t want to ruin anything. I mean, if you don’t want this to be a date, then we can just be here as friends and stuff, and we never have to speak of this again, but – I just really like you, Lara. I _really_ like you, and I think you’re incredibly smart and one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, and… yeah.”

 

Lara blinks at him and then smiles. “That’s… incredibly sweet,” she says. “You know, I haven’t really ever been on a real date. I mean, boys have asked – and a few ladies – but I’ve never found the time. Jace always tell me I’m too caught up in my studies.”

 

“Maybe you are,” he agrees, “you know, I don’t ever think I’ve even heard of Lara Night relaxing for a moment.”

 

She laughs softly. “No, you probably haven’t,” she confirms, “I don’t relax much. There’s always something to be doing, you know.”

 

He chuckles, and she leans forward, putting her chin on her hands. “Tell me about you. I know we’ve been studying together for a while now, but you’ve barely told me about yourself. Most of what I know, I know because of Jace,” she urges.

 

“Uh… I, uh, well, I’m Jay. I’m a freshmen, and I want to go into doing magical law stuff. I’m not great with potions, but I’m not as bad as Jace at them,” he says. “I have a little brother who’s going to be coming here in a couple years. His name’s Silv. Well, I mean, that’s not his name, but it’s what I’ve called him since we were kids. He has silver eyes.”

 

She hums and nods, clearly listening to him as he continues, “I’m awesome, and I like to pull pranks. Uh, not on you, though. Everyone says not to pull pranks on you ‘cause you don’t really like them. But I make no promises about your brother.”

 

She giggles. “Well, I’m sure Jace can handle himself.”

 

He nods, smiling at her, and they finish the rest of their meal in a peaceful silence. Occasionally, Jay makes a joke or compliments Lara, which makes her smile or laugh. Her laughter is like music. Staring down at him from the bookshelf, however, is still her familiar. The owl’s wings are bristled and seem to be getting more and more puffed up as time passes. By the time the dinner is over, the owl looks practically like a ball of frustration.

 

When Lara gets up from the table after Jay pulls out her seat, she sways on her feet. Jay tries to brush it off with a joke that she’s swooning over him, but she collapses before he can finish. The owl familiar lets out a loud, angry hoot and flies down, latching onto Jay’s shoulder as Jay scoops the other witch up into his arms, rushing her to the infirmary.

 

The nurses hurriedly tend to her. Jay only catches a few words about spells, but he hears the word ‘lovesick’ and the word ‘backfire’ and his stomach knots. Lara is lovesick?

 

“I-Is that deadly?” Jay stutters out.

 

“In some cases,” one of the nurses tells him, “but it appears that Miss Night doesn’t have too severe of a case. Her heart rate is slightly elevated and her temperature is a bit high. Likely, she’ll just be sick for the next week or so. Whoever did the spell, though, needs to be more careful.”

 

One of the other nurses nods in agreement. “Young witches… Always testing their luck and refusing to just sit down and figure things out first.”

 

Jay blinks. “W-What do you mean?” He asks.

 

The nurse who had originally spoken to Jay offers him a sweet smile. “Dear, love spells backfire when the target of the spell is already in love with the caster. Even the tiniest of love spells can have a misfire like this, and she’s quite lucky it was such a small one. A more potent spell could’ve caused her more damage.”

 

Jay nods sheepishly and the nurse pats his arm. “Don’t worry. She’ll be up and about in a short while.” She winks at Jay and adds, “but you might need to remind her about your feelings.”


	28. Reset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello.”
> 
> Huh…?
> 
> “Hey! I’m Jay! What’s your name?”
> 
> Y-You can… see me…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Implications of possible insanity (but not)  
> Mentions of demons/implication of possession  
> Time travel  
> Swearing

“Hello.”

 

_Huh…?_

“Hey! I’m Jay! What’s your name?”

 

_Y-You can… see me…?_

“Well, yeah! I mean… you’re kinda invisible and stuff, but I can still see you. You just look kinda like a cloud. See through and stuff. Like smoke.”

 

_O-Oh. Y-Yeah, I… I do. H-Hi._

“So, what’s your name? And how old are you? I’m six!”

 

_My… name?_

“Yeah! Like… mine’s Jay! Or… Jayden, but I like Jay better ‘cause Jayden’s long and stuffy and ick. Dad calls me Jayden, though. I don’t like it.”

 

_I… I don’t remember my name._

“You don’t remember?”

 

_No…_

“Hm… well, can I give you one, then?”

 

_Um… sure._

“How’s about… uh… hehe… I’m actually no good at names. Sorry. Maybe you can think of one.”

 

_Mm…_

“If you can’t, that’s okay, too. I can just call you my friend.”

 

_Friend?_

“Yeah! We’re gonna be friends, right?”

 

_I… I don’t think I’ve ever had a-a friend before._

“Well, now you do! Me!”

 

_O-Okay, Jay._

“What should I call you? Just friend?”

 

_Friend works for now. Maybe I’ll remember my name soon… if you help me._

“Okay!”

 

* * *

 

 

_Jay?_

“Huh? Are you okay, Friend?”

 

_It’s… very dark, isn’t it?_

“It’s nighttime. It’s supposed to be dark so you can sleep.”

 

_I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to be in the dark. I… I don’t like the dark, Jay._

“Well… I can turn on the light for you, if you want. Dad might get mad, though, if he wakes up and sees it.”

 

_No! Don’t get in trouble because of me!_

“Haha! It’s okay, Friend. He’ll just yell at me once and then drop it. I don’t mind, if it makes you feel safe.”

 

_Jay…_

“Nope! I’m a big boy! I’m six! Six-year-olds aren’t afraid of bein’ yelled at by their dads, ‘cause they protect their friends.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, Friend? Psst. You there?”

 

_You have a black-eye again…_

“Yeah, well, that bully deserved somebody standing up to him. He was only picking on Polly ‘cause she’s smaller than him.”

 

_Polaris bit him. She could clearly handle herself._

“I just don’t like seeing her hurt. She’s like my little sister or something.”

 

_I’m sure she’s grateful that a ten-year-old got punched in the face by a thirteen-year-old…_

“Friend.”

 

_…I’m sorry. I just… worry about you sometimes. You’re… very important to me, Jay._

“I know.”

 

_Please be more careful. If you got hurt, I don’t know what I’d do._

“Well, I mean, I got punched in the eye and you didn’t do anything. Besides, I don’t think anyone else can see you.”

 

_You know what I meant._

* * *

 

 

“Dad’s taking me to see a shrink.”

 

_I heard._

“He won’t fucking listen to me! He thinks I’m insane or something. Like… I’m not crazy. You’re real. You’re here, and I’ve seen you since I was six, and I’m thirteen! You’re not some weird imaginary friend or some hallucination or something!”

 

_Jay._

 

“I don’t want to go to a doctor, Friend. I don’t want to be put on meds for the rest of my life because some whack-job shrink thinks I’ve lost my mind. I’m leaving.”

 

_Running away won’t help you. It will only make your father think worse of you._

“I don’t care.”

 

* * *

 

 

“What’s wrong with me?”

 

_What do you mean?_

“I’m turning sixteen tomorrow, and I’ve seen you for ten years. I don’t even know your name. Ha… maybe I’m really insane and just in denial? No one else has ever seen you. You’re not there to anyone else, and right now, I look like I’m just talking to myself. I’m calling literal thin-air ‘Friend’ and it’s talking back to me. Am I going through a mental breakdown?”

 

_Ten years is a long time to go through one of those._

“Your sardonic humor isn’t helping matters any.”

 

_Your vocabulary has grown._

“Once again, not helping, Friend.”

 

_Apologies._

 

“Whatever. So am I crazy?”

 

_I don’t know. Maybe. If you’re crazy, then maybe I am, too._

“So I’m insane with an insane voice in my head.”

 

_Haha… wouldn’t that be odd? But then I’d wonder who’s really insane._

“So you don’t have an answer, huh?”

 

_No, Jay, I don’t._

* * *

 

 

_Happy eighteenth birthday, Jay._

“Thanks, Friend.”

 

_How are we celebrating?_

“I thought we could jack a car.”

 

_I hope you’re joking._

“I am, I am. But, really, I thought we could just hang out and watch TV today. I heard they finally gave up looking for me. It only took them five years to accept that I ran away from home.”

 

_I don’t know if that’s really an accomplishment._

“To me, it is.”

 

_To each their own, I suppose._

“Yeah…”

 

_I hate sports…_

“You know nothing.” 

 

* * *

 

**_Jay!_ **

_Don’t die._

_Don’t you **dare** die, you little **pest**._

_I’ve spent too long trying to harvest your body._

_If you make all of those organs go to waste, and all of your precious **energy** , then I’ll tear apart your soul again._

_This time, that bratty angel won’t be there to protect you._

_She won’t be there to burn up herself._

**_I spent too long trying to replace the little bitch._ **

****

_For you to die now._

**_This early._ **

**_Don’t._ **

****

**_You._ **

 

**_Dare._ **

 

**_Child._ **

****

**_Don’t make me repeat this damn cycle again._ **

****

**_Or I’ll—_ **

****

* * *

 

****

_Jay…_

_Hold on._

_I-I’m trying my hardest._

_This thing is so hard to fight. I wish you remembered._

_Actually… haha… I’m happy you don’t._

_Because all I want is for you to be able to live a happy life._

_Just one of these times._

_How many more times do I have to do this to you?_

_How many more times is that demon going to tear me apart in order to get to you?_

_Jay…_

_Time is going to reset again, so I suppose this won’t really matter, but…_

_Jay, I lo—_

****

* * *

 

 

“Hello.”

_Huh…?_

“Hey! I’m Jay! What’s your name?”

_Y-You can… see me…?_


	29. Djinn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay stares at the red blossom forming on the woman’s chest. She either doesn’t care, or doesn’t seem to notice it, despite Jay having been sure that the bullet should have worked. It doesn’t, unfortunately, which leaves the young hunter in a rather dangerous situation. He’s inexperienced, too much so to have really left his mentor without telling him where he was going or what case he was trying to handle by himself. Unfortunately, only hindsight is twenty-twenty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Swearing (I think?)  
> Implied character death

Jay stares at the red blossom forming on the woman’s chest. She either doesn’t care, or doesn’t seem to notice it, despite Jay having been sure that the bullet should have worked. It doesn’t, unfortunately, which leaves the young hunter in a rather dangerous situation. He’s inexperienced, too much so to have really left his mentor without telling him where he was going or what case he was trying to handle by himself. Unfortunately, only hindsight is twenty-twenty.

 

The woman standing before him has electric blue eyes and the same electric blue around her hands. There are strange, bold, dark tattoos running down her body, which somehow makes the fact that she has light skin and blonde hair seem laughable. The features look so out of place, especially since, without the glowing blue and the tattoos, she’d look like a doll. She’s incredibly pretty.

 

“That was unnecessary,” she scolds.

 

“You were trying to kill me,” he retorts, “it wasn’t unnecessary!”

 

“Well, it was, actually. It didn’t work, did it?” She challenges, a smirk crossing her face. “All you did was waste a silver bullet on me.”

 

He shifts on his feet, half-expecting her to lunge forward to kill him now, while he’s distracted trying to talk to her. “I thought silver killed most things…”

 

She shakes her head, lowering her hands. The blue glow fades, and her eyes melt back to a robin’s egg shade. The tattoos seem to recede up her arms, disappearing underneath her sleeves. “Not alone, it doesn’t,” she corrects. “Not me, or mine.”

 

“Are you the Alpha?” He asks.

 

She shakes her head again. This time, she seems amused. “No,” she answers.

 

“So you answer to ‘em.”

 

“As much you do yours.”

 

“I don’t have an Alpha. I’m a human.”

 

She laughs softly, and maybe if she wasn’t a monster or probably going to try to kill him, he’d admit that it sounds just as pretty as she looks. “You do, too,” she says, “maybe you don’t call them by that, but you have one. A parent. A mentor. A religious figure. Someone you answer to. It’s all semantics.”

 

Jay frowns, but as she takes a step forward, he takes a few back – and continues to until he comes to the horrible realization that his back has pressed against a wall and the woman is stepping forward still. Her hands are still down at her side, but he feels his heart start to race. He’s waited too long to dodge to the side. She’s in front of him in just a few more steps. If she weren’t able to kill him, he’d probably laugh at how she’s a few inches shorter than he is, but somehow so menacing.

 

She tips her head at him. “You’re afraid of me,” she says.

 

“I am not,” he lies.

 

She smiles. “Yes, you are. I can sense it.”

 

When he doesn’t challenge her, she hums, lifting a hand. He flinches, instinctively pressing himself as close to the wall as he can manage, but it barely makes a difference. As her hand moves closer to his face, he slams his eyes shut, not wanting to see the blue glow that will signify his life coming to an end. He braces himself to feel a touch that will spread venom through him.

 

But… it doesn’t come.

 

He warily opens one eye, looking at her. Her hand is just barely away from his face, but she seems to be hesitating. After a moment, he lets out a breath and opens his other eye. She lowers her hand slowly, eyes burning the same electric blue as earlier.

 

“Do you know what I am?” She asks.

 

“You’re a… genie?” He replies, trying to remember what his mentor had called her species.

 

She shakes her head. “Djinn,” she corrects. “In some cultures, we’re called genies – but that’s an incorrect assessment. Genies grant wishes. Djinn trick people and drink their blood.”

 

He nods slowly, trying to look for the nearest escape route. “So you’re going to drink my blood, then?”

 

“I should,” she says. “You came here to kill me after all, and freed my food. But…” She snickers and smirks at him. “You’re such an uninformed hunter. It would almost be _too_ easy since you’ve yet to be a threat to me. Hm… but even if I did kill you, at least you would live your last moments in peace.”

 

Before he can say anything, her hands presses against his chin, closing around his lower jaw. He makes a weak, protesting noise as something starts to seep into his body. His eyelids feel heavy, and his body starts to slip down the wall, legs too weak to hold his weight. His mind numbs and begins to haze over. The last thing he sees is electric blue, and the last thing he hears is a quiet voice purring at him to sleep.

 

* * *

 

“Jay,” a voice sing-songs. “Jay, wake up, sleepy-head.”

 

Jay groans, pulling the blankets further up over his head. “No,” he whines, “sleep. Sleep good.”

 

“Come on,” the distinctly feminine voice urges, “if you don’t, they’ll be upset with you. You know they’ve been looking forward to picking out pumpkins this year, and they’ll be extremely sad if you aren’t there to experience it with them, even if you’ve already done it before.”

 

He shoves the blanket down and blinks. Sitting next to him on the bed, wearing a baggy t-shirt and shorts, is the same blonde who Jay swears he can remember trying to kill him – except without the tattoos and the electric blue glows. Her eyes are soft, though, and her hair is tussled, and she’s saying something else about “them” that he’s really not paying attention to because _didn’t you just try to kill me, what are you?_

“Them?” He echoes.

 

She gives him a discouraged look. “Yes, them. Did you hit your head?”

 

“No, I—”

 

“Daddy,” two voices cheer.

 

Jay jumps as two tiny figures leap up onto the bed, grinning at him. The children has black hair and blue eyes, though the female’s eyes are lighter than her brother’s. They giggle and kiss his cheeks. Next to him, the woman smiles and scoops the little boy up, placing him in her lap.

 

“They’ve been up since sunrise,” she says, “waiting for their daddy to wake up. I finally had to give in and wake you, otherwise I worried they’d lose hope.”

 

Jay nods slowly, staring wide-eyed at the little girl still sitting on his chest. “Oh… right,” he replies. “I… Pumpkins, yeah?”

 

“Pump’ins,” the little girl cheers, throwing her hands up in the air.

 

“Lan’ers,” the little boy laughs, smiling.

 

“That’s right! Jack o’ lanterns and pumpkins,” the woman confirms. “We’re going to carve them and everything. Aren’t we, Jay?”

 

Jay nods again. “Uh… yeah, we are…”

 

The woman grins and kisses the twins on the head, urging them out of the room. As soon as they’re gone, he turns to her. “What did you do to me?” He demands.

 

The electric blue glow returns to her eyes and she offers a smile. “I’m only giving you what you want,” she says, “and getting what I do. I want my food, which you stole from me – and you want a happy, normal life, right?”

 

“This isn’t life. This is death,” he growls.

 

She clicks her tongue. “But it will feel like a life, if you let it. You’ll never know any different unless you fight me. And if you fight me—” The world around him warps to something darker and bloodier. “—I’ll make you regret it.”

 

The world shifts back to the scene of a bedroom, decorated with ‘family’ pictures and the like. “So what will it be, hunter?”

 

He frowns. He wants to fight. He wants to live. But… he wants a normal life, too. He would like to never have to fight a monster again.

 

“I guess if I’m going to die, I might as well die happy, right?” He mutters. “So what do I call you, and them?”

 

“My name is Lara, and theirs are Mara and Thanatos,” she answers.

 

“They named after your family members?”

 

“No. I thought you would appreciate the names.”

 

“I do.”

 

She nods and then leans forward, kissing him. He kisses her back, deciding to accept his fate. It won’t be so bad, right? He’ll get to live a happy life in his head.

 

“’Till death do us part,” he says against her lips.


	30. Alteration Spells II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it stands, though, he rushes into the living and stops mid-step, staring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> References to the chapter "Alteration Spells"  
> References to previous gender swap

“Thanatos, no!”

 

Jay rushes into the living room. He may or may not admit to Lara that he’s holding their daughter by her arms when he runs – but, seriously, Mara is enjoying it; she’s even giggling and laughing because she really seems to like being whisked around; it’s not hurting her at all – but Lara screaming, especially about their son, isn’t something that necessarily makes him feel too great. Especially since Lara never screams. Especially since Thanatos hasn’t been the reason Lara’s sounded genuinely concerned since, well, a time Jay doesn’t really want to think about because it makes him feel like a bad, inattentive father – which both Lara and he agree he isn’t, and that one time shouldn’t be counted because there had been no possible way for him to have guessed what Thanatos would do when confronted with a pit of lava in a cave.

 

As it stands, though, he rushes into the living and stops mid-step, staring.

 

Lara is sitting on the floor with Thanatos in her lap. It would look completely normal, if not for the two, tall, fluffy ears poking out from atop Lara’s head and the fluffy tail sticking out from her spine. To his credit, Thanatos is completely oblivious to how Lara is glaring furiously down at the magic book (Jay thinks it’s about time they put it far, far away). The little boy is standing on his mother’s knees, grabbing at the two black ears, which twitch and move away from his candy-sticky hands.

 

“Bun,” he says absently, reaching still.

 

It’s silent for a long moment after that – by which Jay means all of three seconds, which are spent in awkward silence – before Mara lets out a loud squeal and teleports from his arms. She reappears right next to Thanatos, copying her brothers grabby hand gestures and cheering, “Bun, bun, bun!”

 

Jay watches Lara for a moment more, and when the Aetherian turns her attention to him, he throws his hands up preemptively. “I had nothing to do with it.”

 

“I know you didn’t,” she concedes, carefully reaching up to prod at one of the black rabbit ears that are now atop her head. She grimaces when the ear moves, flicking unhappily at her touch, and then she carefully draws to her feet with the twins in her arms. Behind her, a black rabbit tail twitches anxiously.

 

Jay frowns, lowering his hands. “I’d really hate to bear more bad news, but your wings are missing.”

 

“What? Really?” Lara gasps, spinning in circles in an attempt to catch sight of her wings, likely wanting to call him out a bluff – but after a few more turns, she seems to resign herself to their absence. The children giggle, clearly enjoying the twirling, which allows them each to take hold of one of the fluffy ears.

 

Lara stiffens immediately, new tail flicking upward as she tries not to move. Jay takes careful steps forward, intent on taking the children’s hands away from their mother’s new ears, but the twins release the appendages after a moment of rubbing them. They seem content that the ears are soft beneath their fingers and don’t seem to be interested in risking any harm to their mother.

 

Lara lets out a quiet sigh of relief, body visibly relaxing again. “Maybe you can take the magic book to Dianite’s temple,” she suggests. “At least there, I’ll know where it is and I’ll know that our children won’t be in reaching distance of it.”

 

“If they really want to get it, Lara, they’ll just teleport it to themselves,” Jay reminds, despite not really wanting to risk telling her bad news.

 

She nods. “Yes, but it’s better than them having open access to it in the house. Jinx will put a spell around it if you ask kindly,” she counters softly, before shaking her head and adding, “this is the second body alteration spell Thanatos has done this month.”

 

Jay nods, taking the book from the floor. The writing along the cover shimmers for a moment, as if offended that it’s being taken away from its rightful owner, but Jay pays it little mind. “At least the other one wore off quickly,” he says, shrugging a bit. “Not that I minded you staring. Kind of miss it. I didn’t realize I had to be a woman to keep your eyes on me.”

 

She blushes. “It was hardly that. It was that every morning I woke up, it took adjusting to a woman sharing my bed rather than the man I’ve shared it with for over five years. I don’t make it a habit to sleep with others. I’m quite happy sleeping next to you every night – but seeing you look so different caught my off-guard more than I would like to admit.”

 

He smiles teasingly at her. “I know. I just like to see you flustered,” he offers. “Something about seeing that blush on your face makes my heart beat a little bit faster.”

 

She rolls her eyes affectionately, facing turning a brighter shade of red. She looks down at the twins and laughs softly. “Was is it today?” She asks playfully. “Is it ‘Tease Mommy Day’?”

 

“Mommy pretty,” Mara chimes in, grinning up at her mother.

 

“Bunny Mom,” Thanatos pipes up.

 

“Yes, yes, Mommy’s a bunny right now. Thank you, Thanatos,” Lara offers. Jay can tell she’s trying not to let on to the twins how much she dislikes her current position, but she continues, “Daddy’s going to put the magic book away before anybody else gets ideas, okay? No more spells until you’re older.”

 

Thanatos pouts, though Mara seems okay about it. Jay figures that’s because Mara’s one and only time ever using magic had backfired severely, and that likely left a bad taste for the art in his daughter’s opinion. Thanatos hasn’t really done anything necessarily harmful, but his uses for magic have been mischievous beyond even Jay’s anticipation. It’s probably because of what Thanatos hasn’t done that Lara isn’t too cross with their little boy. Jay can only guess what harmful spells might be in the book, and it’s likely that they should be so lucky Thanatos has only found reason to use body altering spells for way of prank and no other spells for way of harm.

 

Jay portal travels to the Nether and then resurfaces in his and Lara’s home once the book is safely in Jinx’s care. Lara is sitting carefully on the bed. Mara and Thanatos are lying on their side of her, listening to the story she’s reading them before their nap. The book is a short one about a teddy-bear who had found a home and a name with the help of other toys. For the last few weeks, it seemed to be a favorite of the twins’, and it’s been the one Jay has read to them for the last few nights while Lara had been away in the Aether.

 

After a few moments of standing in the doorway to listen, Jay notices that the children have dozed. Lara gets carefully to her feet, laying the blanket over the two, and then sets the storybook down on the nightstand. She hands the twins their teddy-bears, which they latch onto in their slumber.

 

“Fast asleep,” she murmurs. “Now, come on, into the other room. Quiet as a mouse.”

 

“As a rabbit, you mean,” he jokes quietly.

 

She sends him a look and then shakes her head. “I did no such thing,” she says, closing the door softly behind them.

 

Jay leads her further into the living room and then gently tugs at one of her new ears, smiling. She doesn’t seem to mind, other than to jump when he does it. He tries not to be harmful. The black rabbit ears are soft and fluffy. Warm. In a lot of ways, they feel like her wings normally would, if her wings were made of fur and not feathers.

 

“They’re cute,” he says, letting go of her ear.

 

She reaches up to brush the fur back to even on the one he’d grabbed. “They’re odd,” she counters. “It feels so strange to feel them move.”

 

“You have wings normally. You’d think ears wouldn’t bother you,” he points out. When she huffs quietly, he nods. “I get it, though. Uh… female parts are weird, too. Especially the chest and… you know, between your legs.”

 

Her face turns red. “J-Jay, don’t be so vulgar.”

 

“Hey, I was being nice,” he protests. “I could’ve been more informative, but you know what parts you have that I don’t, so I don’t really see why I should go into detail.”

 

The redness remains and she crosses her arms, clearly flustered. As cute as it is – especially with her newer features – Jay doesn’t really like that he’s definitely upset or embarrassed her. When it comes to Lara, there’s a fine line between being playfully embarrassing and being ‘vulgar’, and Jay knows his statement has crossed into territory that has made her uncomfortable.

 

“Hey… I’m sorry,” he offers, reaching over to grab her shoulders. “I just… forget sometimes that we don’t have the same humor.”

 

She shakes her head. “No, no, it’s fine,” she says, “I should just accept that your idea of a joke is… different than mine. You didn’t mean anything horrible, Jay. You don’t need to apologize to me over my behavior.”

 

Jay offers her a small smile. “We’re really growing up, aren’t we?”

 

“Sometimes,” she agrees, “other times, I think we still act like children at one another’s throats. But I-I’m trying to be more… accepting of things you do and say. I… I don’t like fighting with you over petty things. Especially when things tend to be my fault as well.”

 

He nods and reaches around, wrapping her up in his arms. She snuggles closer to him and he smiles as she presses her head underneath his chin. After a moment, his gaze flits down to the fluffy-looking tail at her spine. It looks absolutely adorable and would probably be very soft, just like her ears. In spite of himself, and cursing his lack of self-control, he reaches down and runs his hand across the tail. To his delight, Lara practically melts in his arms, telling Jay all he needs to know about where the sensitivity she had in her wings has gone.

 

“Bedroom,” he declares, scooping her up off of her feet.


	31. Trick or Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jinx grins down at the two little ones in front of the temple doors. Lara and Jay have brought the twins to the Nether. She’s still getting the hang of what Halloween is herself, but so far, she knows that ‘trick or treat’ essentially means ‘may I have candy, Miss Jinx’ when it’s asked at Dianite’s door. The children seem to be adapting far better than she is, as it’s taken her over five years to adjust even as much as she as. Meanwhile, Dianite has only teased her because “the Goddess of Chaos should be natural at Halloween, my queen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> (Possibly swearing. I don't remember. I wrote this Saturday.)

“Trick or treat!”

 

Jinx grins down at the two little ones in front of the temple doors. Lara and Jay have brought the twins to the Nether. She’s still getting the hang of what Halloween is herself, but so far, she knows that ‘trick or treat’ essentially means ‘may I have candy, Miss Jinx’ when it’s asked at Dianite’s door. The children seem to be adapting far better than she is, as it’s taken her over five years to adjust even as much as she as. Meanwhile, Dianite has only teased her because “the Goddess of Chaos should be natural at Halloween, my queen.”

 

“Oh, don’t you both look precious,” she coos, “Mara, are you a reaper?” When the little girl giggles and nods excitedly, Jinx turns to Thanatos and smiles. “And you, Thanatos – are you a little pirate?”

 

The boy nods at her, more composed than his twin sister, but only slightly. Thanatos is dressed in a costume similar to that of one of Captain Capsize’s crew of pirates. Likely, Lara or Jay had asked for an outfit to be made for their son, and Capsize or Redbeard had probably been honored that the little boy had taken such a liking to their clothes as to want to join their crew for the night. He looks extremely cute, despite having his outfit purposefully tattered in some places, likely as an attempt to look more menacing. Truth be told, it isn’t working – he just looks adorable.

 

Mara is dressed in a dark cloak with the oversized hood pulled up over her head, leaving her brilliant gold eyes to shine through the shadows over her face. Her hair is tussled to frame her face a bit better, and is down from its usual braid. The outfit reminds Jinx of Void, but she brushes aside the negativity that notion brings, instead deciding to focus on how surprising it is to see that Lara has allowed Mara to dress as such. Jinx knows that Jay is fond of calling his daughter ‘Deathette,’ but Lara has never struck Jinx as being agreeable to the nickname.

 

“I gave him one night,” Lara informs, as if reading her mind.

 

Jinx smiles. “Very kind of you,” she offers, before turning her attention back to the children. “I think Dianite is in the kitchen. I’m sure he has some cookies all frosted that you can have, and I think Eris has something for the both of you.”

 

“Can we go, Mommy?” Mara begs, turning her gaze to her mother.

 

“Please, Mom?” Thanatos asks.

 

Lara nods. “Take your father with you. You know how he likes Dianite’s baking.”

 

Jay snickers. “I thought I was banned?”

 

“Halloween is different, dear. Just… perhaps don’t aggravate him too much,” Jinx says. “He, Jace, and myself still need to take Eris out this year, and I’d rather he not be in a sour mood when we do. It wouldn’t be fair to Eris. Or to Jace.”

 

Jay grins and nods. “Alright. Happy Halloween, Jinx.”

 

“Happy Halloween, Jay,” Jinx replies, watching him skirt around her and lead the twins further into the temple, making a clear beeline for the kitchen.

 

She turns her attention back to Lara and notices that the twins’ mother is smiling after them. “They look so cute,” she says, “Thanatos in his little coat and Mara in that cloak. It’s a bit big for her, though. I could hem the bottom of it quickly if you’d like, Lara, so she doesn’t trip over it.”

 

Lara nods. “Could you? I’m afraid I’m not the best at sewing, but when Jay mentioned it, Mara wouldn’t let the idea go. Capsize and Redbeard found Thanatos an old outfit of theirs to wear, but I had to try my hand at making Mara’s. I was so worried that I’d make it too small or tight around her wings…”

 

Jinx nods at her. “It looks like it fits well other than being slightly long.”

 

Lara shrugs. “I think I would rather stick to fashioning weapons than clothes. At least weapons I can manage, and make with some class.”

 

“Oh? I heard about the scythe you made.”

 

“Did you?”

 

“Yes. After you made it, Abyss wouldn’t stop talking about it. He kept laughing about how the little pacifist Guardian could make such dangerous things, but would refuse to use them.” Jinx smiles. “As much as I’m sure you prefer peace, Lara, you’ve grown into someone who knows how to fight for what she believes in – and that’s so important to be able to do.”

 

Lara hums in acknowledgement. “I’m just grateful that the fight’s stopped for now. Hopefully, our peace lasts for longer this time around.”

 

Jinx nods. “Yes, I do hope so,” she agrees, before gesturing for Lara to enter the temple. “Now, inside with you, too. I’ll go get my sewing supplies and hem Mara’s cloak, and then we can all head to the Overworld to trick or treat at the Mianitees’ houses and at the dragons’ home.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I love our babies,” Polaris declares.

 

QuickSilver looks over at Polaris and then back at the absolute mess the triplets’ bedroom has become. Draco is in dragon-form, rolling around in the pile of blankets on the floor because the child has given up on trying to find a costume and has ultimately decided to just go as himself for Halloween. Drakon is tugging at the wizard hat that Polaris had ‘borrowed’ (QuickSilver isn’t foolish enough to believe she even took the time to ask) from Brute and playing with the wand that Jordan had let him borrow. It only summons cows, so QuickSilver thinks that it’s probably safe enough for the little half-formed child to use. Kaida is standing between Polaris and QuickSilver, looking just as pleased as Polaris is at the sight in front of them, and QuickSilver has half the mind to think that’s because Kaida was the last one to be seen with the bowl of sugar before Draco ‘mysteriously’ developed a sugar-high.

 

“Polaris, is he okay?” QuickSilver asks after a moment.

 

“He’s fine,” she answers, before adding quietly, “I think. Maybe I should’ve asked Ianite about sugar…”

 

QuickSilver sighs, turning his attention to Kaida. “And you, Kaida – did you plan this?”

 

Kaida looks up at him and innocently shakes her head. “What? No, Daddy! I would never.”

 

“You’re your mother’s daughter, aren’t you, silver tongue?” He teases.

 

She blinks. “What’s a silver-tongue?” She gasps and her eyes widen. “Wait! Is my tongue silver now? How did it get silver? I-Is it gonna hurt me, Daddy?!”

 

He chuckles and pats her on the head. “No, no, Kaida, it won’t. It’s just a saying,” he assures. “It means you’re telling stories.”

 

“Oh,” she says.

 

Polaris giggles and then walks forward, scooping Draco up from the pile. The little hatchling lets out a yowl-like roar, biting at his mother’s hair as she wrestles to keep him in her arms. Polaris makes quiet chirping back at him, eventually settling with a low purr from deep in her chest that lulls Draco into a more peaceful stillness. The hatchling’s eyes lock with his mother’s before he nuzzles underneath her chin, licking her cheek.

 

QuickSilver smiles. Polaris hasn’t gotten to play with the triplets in a long while, so Halloween is something she’s been looking forward to. While he doesn’t get as much into the holiday spirit, Polaris likes to go all-out. She dresses up, makes sweets, and has been insistent for the last week that they take the children out. QuickSilver, over the last five years, has gotten used to handing out candy to Eris – and occasionally to the others around if they decide to visit – but this is the first year he and Polaris have decided to leave the tree, and only because they have the triplets to take out.

 

“So, let’s get dressed,” Polaris cheers. “Kaida, do you know where your dress is?”

 

Kaida nods and walks over to the dresser, pulling a purple and green dress out of the bottom drawer. Polaris hands Draco over to QuickSilver and gently takes her daughter’s hand, ushering Kaida out of the room. When they’re gone, QuickSilver turns to the boys. Drake is already mostly dressed. All he needs is a bit of help buttoning the top that Jordan made for him. Draco still seems content just to be in his dragon-form, so QuickSilver sets the little troublemaker down and moves to help his other son.

 

When Polaris returns with Kaida, the little girl runs over and twirls around in front of QuickSilver, who smiles at her. “You look very pretty, Kaida,” he comments, before turning his attention over to Polaris.

 

Polaris is wearing a dress as well, albeit one that is covered by a coat. The coat goes down past her knees, and when the children are all looking away, the dragoness lets out a low purr that promises her outfit will be beneficial. She unbuttons the top of the coat to show that the front of the dress is more revealing that she normally would wear – and QuickSilver is perfectly fine with that. He returns the purr and steps forward, leaning down to nuzzle at her neck. Before he pulls away, he nips her throat.

 

“ _Mine,_ ” he growls, licking a bit of blood from the tiny injury now on her neck.

 

She smiles, humming in appreciation, before she quickly re-buttons the coat. She claps her hands together once he’s pulled away from her. “Daddy has to get dressed, and then we can go,” she announces. “Make sure to grab your pillowcases.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lara hums as they walk out of Declan’s home. The priest has already given the three children candy – and Jace and Jay some when the two asked. Jinx had snatched a piece of butterscotch, but had made up for the theft by giving Declan a box of cookies. Dianite seems to be pointedly ignoring how Jinx is rolling the candy around on her tongue and watching him knowingly the entire while. The twins are walking between Jay and herself. Eris is walking between her mother and father, being swung occasionally when the two gods rock their arms playfully back and forth, likely to entertain their daughter. Jace keeps carrying Eris’ bag of sweets, tail flitting happily behind him.

 

“This is nice,” Jay says.

 

“It is,” Lara agrees. “It’s much better than going out to protect a village like I used to do.”

 

“You did?” Jay asks.

 

Lara nods. “Yes. Jace and I used to.”

 

Jace laughs. “Well, you protected it. I tried to see how many mobs I could light on fire. Which nearly backfired that one time when it almost lit the village on fire, too,” he says, “wasn’t my fault, though. I thought the zombie would run away from the village, not toward it.”

 

She smiles at the fond memory and glances down at the twins. Thanatos is idly playing with the little orb of fire that Eris had given to him. The fire is oddly a blue shade, but it’s trapped inside of a glass sphere that is protected with magic that has made it invulnerable. Mara has an identical orb, but she’s far more distracted with playing with the fixed hem of her cloak and chewing on the strawberry candy that Declan had given her.

 

“It’s pretty, isn’t it, Thanatos?” She asks. “You said thank you to Eris, right?”

 

Thanatos nods. “Pretty,” he agrees quietly, running a finger along the sphere. The fire chases his touch, creating a line inside of its home until it settles and coils in on itself again, burning bright.

 

Lara reaches down with one hand and runs her finger across the surface, smiling when the fire splits into two halves. One half lurches up at her touch, and the other half stays near Thanatos’ hand. As soon as the fire touches where her hand is, it changes from blue to white. When she pulls her hand away, the white flames collapse back to the bottom of the sphere, immediately blue again.

 

Thanatos, however, is mystified. “Touch again,” he urges, holding it up to Lara.

 

Lara blinks. “It changes color?” She asks, obliging her son – though partially out of her own curiosity.

 

Eris giggles and nods. “Yes, it does! The fire turns different colors when different people touch it. Mommy was teaching me how to make things change color, so I wanted to share it with Mara and Thanatos. I thought they’d like it.”

 

Thanatos turns to Eris and grins, which earns the little boy a delighted laugh from his older cousin. Lara pulls her hand away from the orb, patting her son on the head. She glances over at Mara, but the little girl has pulled out her own sphere and is getting Jay to touch it. Every time Jay prods it, the fire inside burns jet-black. Mara is as awe-struck as Thanatos had been.

 

She stops when she notices that Polaris, QuickSilver, and the triplets are all running over to them. Polaris has a jacket wrapped tightly around herself, but from the sound Jinx makes suddenly, Lara can guess that the jacket is hiding something more… intimate. Jinx seems to know whatever it is, but the goddess remains quiet about it. Lara doesn’t ask, instead turning her attention to the others. Kaida is in what looks to be a witch’s dress; Draco is in dragon-form, holding a bucket in his mouth, with a hat balanced precariously on his head; Drake is dressed in what’s likely to be a mimic of Waglington’s wizardly garb and a hat. QuickSilver is dressed in a suit that looks as though it’s seen better days, much like Thanatos’ pirate outfit.

 

“Ah! There you are,” Polaris cheers. “Jordan sent us over with candy apples – and I made pumpkin pie. I figured Dianite would do cookies, so I didn’t want to be redundant.”

 

“Pum’in?” Mara echoes.

 

“Pumpkin pies are really yummy,” Kaida informs. “They don’t taste like cookies or like cake, but they’re still really good. When we get back to the tree, you can try some.”

 

“M’kay,” Mara agrees, before taking an apple from Polaris. Thanatos takes one from QuickSilver, and then Eris takes one from Polaris. As soon as the three have their sweets, they start eating them. The triplets, who’ve likely been told they have to wait, also begin to nibble on their candy apples.

 

“You look… lovely, Polaris,” Jinx says after a moment.

 

Polaris purrs. “Oh, I’ll bet I do,” she replies, “but Silv will get to have more fun later. For now, I’m a bit… chilly. Halloween… awfully fun holiday, right? I’m surprised you’re not taking advantage and wearing something a bit more… witchy.”

 

Jinx chuckles. “Witchy?” She echoes, feigning offense. “Dear, I’m a _goddess_ , not a witch. I don’t need little potions and magicks to show my king why I’m his perfect brand of chaos.”

 

“Okay, in front of the children?” Jay says.

 

“They’re too little to understand, Jay, hush,” Jinx reminds.

 

“Yeah, well, I’m not,” he counters.

 

“Oh, as if you’re not thinking the same things about Lara and can’t wait for the sugar-rush to wear off so you can get your trick or treat later,” Polaris challenges.

 

“I—” Jay starts, before cutting himself off. “Yeah, okay… but that’s different.”

 

Lara shakes her head and kisses Jay’s cheek. “Let’s just continue on, shall we?” She suggests, before lowering her voice to a whisper, “and I may make tonight worth your while, my love _._ ”

 

Jay smiles. “You always make it worth my while, Lara.”

 

She laughs softly. “I hope so,” she says.

 

* * *

 

 

Jinx glances over at the children as they sort through their bags of candies. Jace is teaching them the benefits of going out in a group, which apparently means they can trade the sweets they don’t like for ones they do with the others. It seems to be going off without any trouble. Eris has given up most of her chocolate to the other children in exchange for different kinds of candy. Mara has given up all of her orange candies and Thanatos has offered up his red ones to his sister. The triplets have given out the majority of their fruit-flavored candies in exchange for chocolates. Jace occasionally ‘gets stuck with’ some of the hotter candies that the children don’t like, but he seems delighted with his payment for teaching them the benefit of groups.

 

“Thanatos, can I have one?” Lara asks, pointing to one of the green pieces of candy. Her son nods and offers it up to her immediately, receiving a kiss and a pat on the head in return for his kindness.

 

Jay asks for one of Mara’s candies, and Mara hands him a small bag of chips from Tucker and Sonja. “Thanks, Mara,” he offers.

 

Polaris has managed to take a few of the coconut-flavored chocolates from Draco, who doesn’t like the taste, and QuickSilver splits a caramel-coated chocolate bar with Drake and Kaida. Jinx glances over at Eris and notices that the little girl is going through the rest of her spoils with her father, and that Dianite is taking the cinnamon candies that Eris doesn’t seem to like.

 

Jinx smiles to herself, cutting the pumpkin pie into slices. She sets the plates down on the floor next to each of the children, patting them on the head before she moves on to the next plate and the next child. All of them seem to have done quite well for themselves, and with how well they’re getting along, she doubts that next year will prove problematic.

 

“Happy Halloween,” she says.

 

“Happy Halloween,” the children cheer in unison.


End file.
